Stormfront
by just slummin
Summary: This story takes place after the events of “Murphy’s Law” and is part of a continuing Mal/River storyline. For those who have not read the entire series so far, it might be marginally helpful to take a look at “Forward Motion” first. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Prologue**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: This story takes place after the events of "Murphy's Law" and is part of a continuing Mal/River storyline. For those who have not read the entire series so far, it might be marginally helpful to take a look at "Forward Motion" before reading this arc. A special thanks to Midnight Obsidian, for the use of the crew of the Hit or Miss, some of my favorite characters to write. Your crew is a treasure, as are you, kind sir.

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The air in the cargo bay was charged with tension, a tension so thick that it prickled along the skin of Marcus' hand as he held his gun perfectly steady.

"You sure you want to go down this road?" Mal asked, his voice low and deadly as he stared at the younger Captain.

"Fair certain I don't," Marcus replied, his own voice coming out flat and deceptively calm. "Don't see as I have a choice."

"A man always has a choice," Mal replied as his finger flexed slightly on the trigger of his own gun.

Marcus exhaled a slow breath. "See, I don't think so," he said, every molecule of his body attuned to the man in front of him, blocking out everything else that surrounded him.

He knew, dimly, that his crew stood at his back, each man poised and ready for what was about to happen. More ready than he was, if the truth were told, he thought wryly. Thin beads of sweat lined his brow and upper lip as he looked at Mal.

Mal held his gaze, but somehow managed to gesture toward the crew of Serenity, standing in various poses of readiness around him. "You aim to do this in front of them?" he asked.

"Would rather you'd come with me, quiet-like," Marcus replied, sadness in his voice. "No need to make this uglier than it has to be."

Mal snorted. "Here's the thing. I ain't wildly interested in making this pretty."

Marcus nodded, his jaw tightening visibly. "Sorta proves my point," he said, directing his words more toward Serenity's crew than her Captain. "When you think about it." Talking once again to Mal, he said, "Last time I'm asking you to come with me without any undue fuss."

Mal stood motionless, and Marcus had a wild moment of optimism. Then, almost imperceptibly, Mal exhaled slowly and Marcus, seeing Mal's trigger finger move, did what he had never imagined doing until this very day. He pulled the trigger.

Mal fell forward, an obscenely neat bullet hole blossoming red on his chest. Marcus blinked slowly, feeling a slight sting as Mal's bullet barely grazed his shoulder. The only sound he could hear was the pounding of his pulse in his ears and River's strangled cry.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part I—Mail**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Successful in their last job, Serenity's crew goes to the Skyplex for a few sundries.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Much earlier…….._

Malcolm Reynolds was happy. And rightly so, he thought with a little bit of wonder, considering that he was currently walking through the Skyplex holding the hand of his little girl, Hannah, as she took some of her first tentative steps, and his son, Adam, who bounced along on his own sturdy little legs.

River smiled warmly at him, very aware of his thoughts as she held Hannah's other hand in hers. "Lucky," she murmured.

Though he'd never thought of himself as particularly lucky, Mal had to agree. Despite the turmoil that swirled around them in the 'verse, as the Alliance and the growing Independent movement began to square off for battle, Mal and the crew of Serenity had managed over the course of the last few months to avoid any serious complications. And though he watched the news on the Cortex and heard the talk on the Rim worlds they frequented, so far Mal was not overly concerned with the whole issue. Having been in one war for independence, and too gorram close to a second one some time ago, he was not interested in dragging his family and crew into a fight that had, so far as he could tell, little chance of success.

The rest of the crew ambled around somewhere behind them, each small group following its own agenda. Mal smiled at the thought. Cashy money was a luxury they rarely enjoyed, and everyone had been eager to dock with the Skyplex and see to the matter of spending it in short order. He and River would most likely spend the lion's share of their portion on clothes for the little ones, since both of them seemed to be outgrowing everything at a truly alarming rate. Zoe, Jim, and Anya were off to find a book vendor. Zoe's supply of books had been exhausted during the long process of Jim's recovery. Jayne, ever on the lookout for new weapons, would likely come back empty handed, as Mal could not imagine him finding anything to his taste in the art supply store Inara was intent on finding. Kaylee, Simon, and Daniel seemed to be the only ones not in real need of anything, but Kaylee, ever anxious to interact with people wherever they landed, had shooed Simon and Daniel off the ship just the same to walk through the crowded Skyplex in search of anything that might catch her eye.

Seeing the postmaster's office up ahead, Mal angled Hannah and Adam in that general direction. "Captain Reynolds," the Postmaster said heartily. "Glad you stopped in. There are a few letters for you and yours."

Mal lifted an eyebrow in surprise. He had not really been expecting a letter, being as how most of the people he talked to with any consistency were already on his ship. However, whenever they were on the Skyplex, he always checked just out of habit.

Reaching below the counter, the Postmaster produced a small stack of letters with a flourish. Mal took them, thumbing through them quickly. One was from Jayne's mother, he could tell, having become well acquainted with her spidery handwriting over the course of time. There was a rather thick envelope embossed with the symbol of House Madrassa and addressed to Inara. And there were four letters addressed to Jim. "That it?" Mal asked.

"Yes sir," the Postmaster affirmed. "I was planning to wave you if you didn't come fairly soon. That last letter to Mr. Bowden was flagged as a priority."

Mal looked curiously at the envelope again. "No return address," he murmured.

"None," the Postmaster said. "But it came through the government courier, if that helps."

Mal looked at him sharply, a vague feeling of disquiet skittering down the back of his spine. Clearing his throat, he said, "Thank you for holding it for us."

"You're welcome, of course," the Postmaster replied. "I just need you to sign for that last letter."

"Why?" Mal asked.

The Postmaster shrugged. "Standard procedure for all priority letters," he said easily.

Mal looked at River, who nodded slightly. Apparently the Postmaster had no hidden agenda. He took the man's proffered pen, and signed the form uneasily.

Glancing at the signature, the Postmaster smiled. "That's it then. Happy travels to you, Captain Reynolds."

Mal nodded, tucking the letters into the breast pocket of his long brown coat. Retrieving Hannah's little hand, he walked back toward the book vendor, anxious to deliver Jim's mail and find out exactly what was going on.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jim thumbed through the envelopes, his brow wrinkled in surprise. "Through the government courier?" he asked uneasily.

"So it would seem," Mal said, standing beside him with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jim swallowed thickly, not liking the sound of that in the slightest. Reaching into his pocket to retrieve a knife, he slit the envelope open and began to read while Zoe, Anya, Mal and River looked on intently.

Folding the first letter back up, he quickly scanned through the second and third, his hands beginning to shake. When finally he got to the last letter, Mal's nerves were beginning to fray at the edges.

Looking up at the expectant group, Jim cleared his throat. "It's a gorram notice to report for duty," he said, the words sticking in his dry throat.

"What?" Zoe and Mal said in surprised unison, watching the color drain from Jim's face.

Jim held out the last letter to Zoe. "Says I have to report for duty to the nearest Alliance military facility within thirty days of this notice."

"But you're not in the military anymore," Mal protested.

"That's what I thought as well," Jim replied, looking more defeated by the moment. "But apparently the hundans have decided to overlook that little fact."

"They can't do that," Zoe said flatly. "Can't call a man back into service unless…"

"Unless there's a war on," Mal finished when she fell silent.

Anya's eyes widened. "But there is no war," she said. "We'd have heard."

"Unless there's about to be," Jim said as gently as he could.

"And they would call you, of all people, why?" Mal asked.

Jim looked at him bleakly. "Maybe because I was in Special Ops. Maybe because I came to their attention again when Zoe and I used the medical benefits for veterans." He paused for a moment, considering carefully his next words. "Maybe because I'm crew on Serenity."

The last maybe was the one that set Mal's heart racing uncomfortably. "What's the date on the last notice?"

Zoe answered, the letter still shaking slightly in her hand. "Twenty-eight days ago."

"So if I don't report in within two days…" Jim began.

"They'll come and retrieve you," River said flatly.

While the others looked at her in startlement, Jim nodded slowly. "That's about the size of it," he said grimly.

"Well, you can't go," Anya said firmly, looking from Jim to Mal for some answer to the dilemma. "I mean, you can't just agree to fight for them, not after everything we know about them. Not after…"

Zoe laid her hand on Anya's shoulder, stilling her words. "We'll have to figure some way around it. Best if we leave Serenity for awhile, get lost in the shuffle of things."

Jim shook his head. "Can't let you and Anya get sucked into this. I won't have you two on the run with me. If the Alliance should come after me, it's best if you're on Serenity. Besides, it could be that if I report in, they won't even want me, considering the brain injury I've sustained. Maybe I won't meet their requirements."

"I wouldn't count on that," Mal said grimly. "'Specially since they had to have access to your medical records, what with the benefits being used. Best we go on back to the ship and suss out what needs to be done."

The group walked grimly back to Serenity, all thought of shopping for supplies eclipsed by Jim's predicament.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Senator closed the file with the gentleness of a lover. "Very impressive," he said, sitting back in his chair. "I am most pleased with the progress you've made."

The thin man nodded in slight acknowledgement. "We were given to understand this project had top priority."

"And so it does," Senator Michaels replied. "Still, the projected date for completion of Phase Five of the project is still two weeks away, and you tell me that you are ready to proceed now. I can only applaud your diligence."

The blue-gloved man's lips curved into an approximation of a smile. "It was the consensus of the corporate officers that time is of the essence in this matter. We were instructed to proceed with all due haste."

"Excellent," Michaels replied. He tapped his fingers lightly on the closed file. "If you would be so kind as to indulge a few questions…."

"Of course," the thin man replied.

"You are certain that she will not be able to penetrate the shield? As I recall, she is a Reader of extraordinary ability."

"The shield was fully tested in Phase One of the project," the thin man replied. "And since then, it has been enhanced. There is no reason to believe she will be able to penetrate it."

Michaels nodded. "But what of the boy? The shield is not calibrated for him."

"No matter," the thin man replied calmly. "There will be internal shielding. It can be reasonably assumed that the boy's abilities are not as keenly developed as the mother's. After all, he is less than five years old."

Michaels frowned. "I'm not certain I wish to make that assumption. If the boy should somehow manage to break through the shielding…"

"As I said, he is less than five years old. He can be easily neutralized at any time that he poses a threat to the project."

Michaels nodded, satisfied with the answer. "So, I assume that you are ready, then?"

"We only await the approval of the Oversight Committee," the thin man affirmed.

"And each of them has been thoroughly briefed about your progress?"

"Colleagues of mine are having meetings similar to this one as we speak."

"Excellent," Senator Michaels said, leaning forward in his chair. "In that case, I see no reason to delay further. I will convene a meeting with the Committee within the next few hours, and contact you as soon as possible."

"Very well," the blue gloved man said, rising from his seat. "In that case, I will return to the facility and await your instructions."

The man walked silently out of the Senator's office, his shoes making no sound on the plush carpeting. As soon as he cleared the door, Michaels thumbed the comm unit on his desk. "Call a meeting of the Oversight Committee. Tell them to convene in…." He paused for a moment, looking at the chronometer. "….in two hours."

"Yes, sir," the tinny reply came.

Senator Michaels leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers over his vest. In just two short hours, he thought smugly, the face of the 'verse would change for all time, and he would be a large part of it.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part II—Military Law**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Jim tries to figure a way out of his dilemma, and gets some legal advice.

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"I could leave for awhile, disappear 'til we see how serious they are about finding me," Jim said, running his fingers through his short blonde hair distractedly.

"Not letting you go alone," Zoe replied flatly.

Jim sighed. "Someone's got to stay here with Anya. She'll be needing her mother, if something should happen."

Mal leaned against the corner of the galley counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "Won't work," he said. "Alliance already thinks you're here. Leaving now won't stop them coming after us looking for you."

"But if they do, at least I won't be here, making all of you guilty of harboring a fugitive," Jim pointed out.

"You disappear, and I don't expect they'll be likely to believe we don't know where you are," Zoe said.

"Gorram it to hell," Jim said tiredly. "I don't see how to make this right without turning myself in."

"You can't be serious," Zoe replied, the mere suggestion making her all manner of uneasy.

Mal held Jim's gaze steadily, well aware of why the man would make such a choice to keep his family from danger. Jim exhaled slowly and tried to smile at his wife. "Can't be letting the Alliance come after you and Anya. Simple as that. I'll show up, tell them I have no intention of re-enlisting, and let the chips fall where they may. It isn't like they can force me to fight."

Mal shook his head slowly. "Maybe not, but they can do some fair creepifying things to put pressure on you. I've been in military custody, and it ain't somewhere I'd recommend."

"Well, I'm open to suggestions here," Jim replied. "But whatever the decision is, I'll not be endangering this crew, dong ma?"

"I understand," Mal replied. "And I'm obliged to you. But, you're crew too, and it don't sit just right with me to let you walk right into the lion's den without a fight."

"Not my favorite thought either," Jim said wryly. "But…"

Mal held up his hand. "Wait a minute," he said, forestalling Jim's objection. "Could be we can see to this thing legal-like. Make a case that you're unfit, or that calling you back after you've been discharged is illegal in peacetime."

"Bridgman," Zoe said, her eyes burning brightly at the slender hope.

Mal nodded, a small smile beginning. "Worth a shot, anyway."

"Who?" Jim asked, looking back and forth between the Captain and first mate.

"Tom Bridgman," Mal replied. "A lawyer that helped us out of a pretty bad situation before you came aboard. Decent sort of man. Reasonable, not in the pocket of the Alliance. Least we could check and see what he has to say."

"You trust this man?" Jim asked solemnly.

"I do," Mal replied.

"As do I," Zoe said. "He got me out of jail. Got the Captain out too. Returned Anya and Adam to us."

"Why have I not heard this story?" Jim asked.

Mal waved his hand dismissively. "It's a long story, and none too pretty. Anyway, the bottom line is he might be able to give us some advice if nothing else."

Jim nodded. "If Zoe thinks he's all right, I got no objections."

"All right then," Mal said, straightening up from his leaning position. "That bein' the case, let's go on up to the bridge and put in a wave."

Jim and Zoe followed the Captain out of the galley. As they neared the bridge, Jim held Zoe back for a moment. "I'll be wanting to hear that story sometime."

Zoe's lips twitched. "I'll be glad to tell it, once we've made sure you're gonna be around to hear it."

Having no reply to that, Jim stepped into the cockpit.

XXXXXXXXXX

Anya sat on the catwalk over the cargo bay, swinging her legs dispiritedly over the edge. River padded silently up to her perch and sat down gracefully beside her, letting her own bare legs dangle.

"I'm all right," Anya said, drawing herself up stiffly.

The stance looked so much like Zoe that River's breath caught for a moment. "Liar," she replied gently.

"I am," Anya protested, though she was dismayed to hear her voice quaver.

River nodded, choosing not to argue the point. She looked out over the empty cargo bay. "We'll find a way," she said. "We always find a way."

Anya looked at her intently. "Do you…..see anything?" she asked.

River sighed. "No," she said, though it was not strictly true. Though she could discern nothing concrete, she saw shadows, disturbing shades of things to come. But she determined the child need not know such vague feelings of disquiet. She could hardly credit them herself.

"What are they talking about?" Anya whispered, swallowing thickly.

"They're talking with Mr. Bridgman," River said, giving her a smile.

"The lawyer?" Anya asked incredulously.

"The very same," River replied. "Seems reasonable, considering the circumstances, don't you think?"

Anya's brow wrinkled. "Better than gunplay, I guess," she answered after a long moment. "If it works, that is."

"Exactly," River replied, turning back to stare into the empty bay area again.

The two sat for a long time in silence.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you for getting back to us so quick," Mal said, staring at Tom Bridgman's image on the Cortex screen.

Bridgman sighed, returning the look grimly. "Wish I could be of more help to you," he said. "But I can't seem to get a handle on what's what. No one with any type of military clearance will answer my questions. And the more I press, the more they stonewall. The bottom line is that they seem to think your Mr. Bowden signed some type of form when he was discharged that gave them carte blanche to reactivate his military service status at any time."

Jim scowled. "That can't be true. I suspect I would remember if I'd had to sign something like that."

Bridgman looked at him in sympathy. "I'm sure it's all a mix up of some sort. I've done some checking with attorneys that are more conversant in military law than I am, and their consensus seems to be that you will need to retain a military advocate for your case, if you wish to contest re-enlistment."

"You can't represent me?" Jim asked.

"Afraid not," Bridgman answered sadly. "The military does not allow civilians to participate in their proceedings." He sighed heavily. "But the good news is that one of the attorneys with whom I spoke was able to recommend an advocate that is available to meet you at the military outpost on the Skyplex. According to my source, he is a decent sort of man, and one who will represent you fairly, and hopefully get this mess untangled."

Mal's jaw tightened. "So, you're saying Jim needs to turn himself over to the outpost."

"Within the next two days, or be considered a fugitive," Bridgman confirmed, nodding slightly.

Jim drew in a deep breath. "What's the guy's name?" he asked resignedly.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm going with you," Zoe said implacably.

Jim gazed down into her liquid brown eyes. "There's no need," he said for the umpteenth time. "The advocate guy will be there, and I'll get everything all straightened out. Probably be home by this time tomorrow."

Zoe snorted softly. "You know that ain't like to happen. I got an uneasiness about the whole thing. Nothing we ever do with the Alliance goes like it should. And the fact that they're calling you back, now of all times…."

Jim's hands came to rest on her shoulders. "There would never be a good time for this to happen," he replied reasonably. "And there's all manner of reasons I can list that I won't be the soldier they're looking for. Can't imagine what army would want me with the damage I've sustained."

Zoe's lips curved into a slight smile. "You are not so damaged, in my way of thinking," she said softly.

Jim grinned. "Yeah, well, they don't have to know that. There's no limit to the sad story I can spin out for the hearing, if it comes to that. After all," he paused dramatically, putting one hand on his lower back as if in pain. "It's obvious I'm not the man I used to be."

Zoe's smile held for a moment before it melted into a serious look. "Regardless, I'm coming with you."

Jim sighed. "I know," he said. "Just thought I'd make an attempt to talk you out of it anyway. But I can see from the set of your shoulders that I have no say in this."

"Damn straight," Zoe said blandly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal stood at the ramp, watching Jim and Zoe as they threaded their way through the crowds on the Skyplex heading toward the military outpost there. River rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Can't be helped," she said simply.

Mal scowled. "Maybehaps not," he said. "But that don't make me like it any better. I got a bad feeling about this whole thing. And just walking into that gorram outpost like that, not knowing what the diyu is goin' on…." His words trailed off.

"Easier for you to go in guns blazing than wait it out," River said perceptively.

"Well, yeah," Mal said, sparing her a small, wry smile. "Least that way you know what to expect."

"Bullet holes," River replied flatly.

Mal shrugged. "A few, most probably."

"And a life of harboring a fugitive," she added.

Mal smiled. "Wouldn't be too much new in that," he replied.

River rolled her eyes. "Could get a little more tricky, with young ones aboard."

Mal sighed, acknowledging the truth of her words. "Guess you're right about that," he said. "And it could be that the advocate Bridgman mentioned may pull Jim out of the fire." Seeing Jim and Zoe disappear into the distance, he raised the ramp slowly. "It's just the waitin' that wears a man down."

River nodded, standing on tiptoe to kiss her husband's wrinkled brow. "Perhaps it won't be too long a wait," she whispered, though her reassuring words sounded hollow in her own ears.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part III—In Custody**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Jim and Zoe fail to return, and Mal goes to find out why.

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"It's been twelve hours," Mal said restlessly, pacing in his bunk.

"I know, ai ren," River said tiredly, her own nerves frayed by the anxiety of the crew that washed over her in waves. What had started as a carefree day for all of them had turned into a night of bone-chilling worry for Jim. Though all of the adults tried to hide their fears from Serenity's children, the children themselves were much too bright to be fooled by their dogged determination to appear at ease. Even Hannah had been fretful all evening, and River was exhausted from the effort of calming the child into a fitful sleep.

"I wasn't expecting Jim back, truth be told," Mal continued, unaware of River's state of mind. "Conjured they'd keep him for a long while whether they finally let him go or not. But I was expecting at least some word from Zoe by now."

"Perhaps she's on her way back," River offered, trying for optimism.

Mal frowned, unconvinced. "If we've not heard from her within the hour, I'm going," he said.

Seeing the grim set of his jaw, River knew better than to even attempt to talk him out of that notion. She sighed, pulling the covers up to her chin and trying to block out the worried thoughts of the entire crew.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee banged on the stubborn part, letting her frustration and worry out with each swing of her wrench. "Just don't seem right," she muttered.

Simon leaned down to look at his wife under Serenity's engine. "You need any help down there?"

"No," Kaylee replied, giving the part another punishing blow.

"Sounds a little like you might," Simon said gently, his brow wrinkling in concern.

Kaylee slid out from her workplace with the ease of long practice. "Don't need any help. Just need to replace the part, when I get hold of a better one. Was plannin' to tell the Capt'n about it when we got back from shopping, but what with the whole Jim thing…." Her voice trailed off unhappily.

Simon sighed. "It will be all right, Kaylee. I'm sure that the advocate will be able to straighten out whatever is going on, and Jim will be back in short order. I really can't imagine why the Alliance would even want him back. Not only is he beyond the age of normal enlistment, but he has several physical problems that would make him a less than ideal candidate for being a soldier again."

Kaylee's normally sunny face fell. "It just ain't right," she said mournfully. "Don't seem to me the pieces all fit together, less'n there's something the purplebellies know that they ain't tellin'."

"I agree, it is…odd," Simon said. "But perhaps we're just a little paranoid. Perhaps it's all a mix-up in paperwork somewhere. Our previous experiences could be clouding our perceptions."

Kaylee snorted. "And well they should, if you ask me. Way I see it, the Alliance ain't done nothin' but hound us long's we been flyin'."

Simon could not argue the point considering their colorful history.

"Still," Kaylee said, sighing. "I guess it's like my Ma says. Ain't no use to borrow trouble when you got enough of your own. Reckon we should just wait and see what happens, and try not to get to bibbledy in the waiting."

Simon smiled, pulling her close and kissing the tip of her grease-smeared nose. "Can't argue with your mother's logic," he said softly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe sat on the bench in the public waiting area of the military outpost, wondering fleetingly if rickety benches were a prerequisite for all military installations. She had sat thus for some hours, watching the wheels of Alliance bureaucracy turning with the speed of a severely impaired snail. Jim was nowhere in sight, having been whisked away into the inner bowels of the outpost immediately upon presenting his letters and informing the bored-looking sentry on duty that he wished to meet with an advocate.

As far as Zoe could tell, the request had been greeted with something less than pleasant surprise, but at least the advocate had been called and allowed to follow Jim into the inner rooms. Zoe took that as a good sign, though she was beginning to weary of sitting and staring into space without any word from her husband.

On the verge of threatening the desk jockey with bodily harm if she did not receive some kind of information immediately, Zoe saw the advocate coming toward her with a sure step.

"Mrs. Bowden?" he asked, his tone pleasant and soothing.

"Yes?" Zoe replied.

"I'm Phillip Harken. Your husband retained my services as advocate in the upcoming hearing to determine re-enlistment eligibility." He held out his hand and Zoe shook it firmly.

"So, what's going on?" she asked without further preamble.

Harken smiled, unruffled by her brusqueness. "The hearing is set for tomorrow. Mr. Bowden has been remanded to custody for the night, but that is standard procedure in these cases. Nothing to be alarmed about. He asked me to come out and tell you that there is no need for you to stay. You can come back in the morning and attend the hearing. I'll leave word with the MP's to let you enter."

Zoe's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't much like the idea of my husband being incarcerated for the night."

"I understand," Harken said kindly. "But I can assure you that there is nothing that can be done about it. While I hope that the tribunal will be lenient in the Mr. Bowden's case, considering all the mitigating circumstances, I know with absolute certainty that he has to stay here until the hearing is held." Harken's voice lowered slightly and he leaned closer to Zoe. "I deemed it best not to exacerbate the situation by arguing for his release for the night. I'm sorry to say that your husband's case is not exactly a normal one. We must tread lightly and use what we can to gain favor with the tribunal. One night's incarceration seemed a reasonable concession to make for their good will."

"And that was your assessment, or Jim's?" Zoe asked, her voice deceptively calm.

"We agreed," Harken said, straightening his shoulders. "I know you don't know me, Mrs. Bowden, and know that you might find it difficult to trust me in this uniform, given your…history, but I am doing and will continue to do everything I can to help your husband. Dong ma?"

"What do you know of my 'history'?" Zoe asked.

"What Mr. Bowden has told me, of course," Harken said, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. "He thought you might be a little….resistant to the idea of leaving him here."

"Did he now?" Zoe asked, her eyebrow rising.

Harken chuckled. "He said to tell you that he would prefer not to see you take out the entire outpost by yourself," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Might hit him by accident if you go in guns blazing."

Zoe knew then without a further word that Harken was relaying the message as Jim had said it. Her heavy heart lifted slightly. "So, you'll stay with him through the night?"

"Will do," Harken said. "We'll be up until the wee hours discussing our best line of argument, I expect. Setting the hearing for tomorrow puts us a little under the gun, so to speak."

Zoe nodded. "Tell him I'll be back at first light."

"Of course," Harken said, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "See you in the morning, Mrs. Bowden."

"You surely will," Zoe replied, standing up to head back to Serenity with the weight of worry on her shoulders.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Ain't waiting any more," Mal said firmly, pulling on his boots and tucking in his shirt tails. "Shoulda' heard from her by now."

River sat in the middle of their bed, the covers pulled up over her bare shoulders. "I'll go with you."

"No," Mal replied, flashing her a determined look. "You stay here, case something happens. Don't want to have to worry about the ship too."

River nodded solemnly. "Well, at least take Jayne," she suggested.

Mal paused for a moment. "All right," he agreed grudgingly. "Though I got no notion to wait around whilst he gets ready."

"He's already ready," River replied, feeling the tension of the mercenary as clearly as if she were in the room with him. "Never went to sleep."

"That's good then," Mal said, not even bothering to ask how she knew such a thing. Climbing the rungs of the ladder, he looked back at her and his face softened briefly into a smile. "Be back soon's I can."

"I know," River replied, forcing a thin smile onto her face.

She shivered as she watched his feet disappear up the ladder, filled with a strong sense of foreboding that left her almost breathless in its wake.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jayne was relieved to be doing something, even if that something was walking with Mal toward the Alliance outpost. The Skyplex itself tended to make Jayne a little jumpy, filled as it was with too many opportunities for unpleasantness, in his opinion. Once upon a time, he would never have even considered the danger, but the 'verse was a different place to him now in these years since the Miranda Wave. And there were people he didn't want to lose in it.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, picking up his pace to keep up with Mal's long-legged stride.

"Get Zoe," Mal replied simply.

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Sorta' figured that much out already. It's the how of it that has me wonderin'."

Mal drew in a deep breath. "Ain't rightly sure. Still workin' it through."

Though that statement was less than comforting, it was essentially what Jayne had assumed. Just as well, he thought, considering how the Captain's plans generally worked out anyway. Constantly scanning the crowds milling around them for signs of trouble, he replied, "Just so you know, I didn't bring grenades this time. Figured they'd blow up Zoe and Jim too, if we had to use 'em."

"Good thinking," Mal said dryly, glancing over at his mercenary.

Jayne stopped in his tracks, looking into the crowd intently. "What is it?" Mal asked, seeing his sudden wary look.

"Think we've got a tail," Jayne said softly, turning to continue walking smoothly. "Two men in grey suits, 'bout thirty yards behind us."

Mal nodded almost imperceptibly. "This day just keeps getting better and better," he muttered. "Any idea who they…." His words abruptly stopped as a strange buzzing sound came from somewhere behind them. He tried to turn to look at Jayne, but the action seemed impossibly difficult somehow. Mouth still slightly open, he fell to the ground in a boneless heap. The last thing he consciously registered was Jayne's stunned look as he, too, crumpled to the Skyplex platform beside the Captain.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe walked up Serenity's ramp tiredly. River rose from the cargo bay floor to meet her. "Where are the others?" she asked, the urgent tone of her request setting off alarms in Zoe's head.

"Jim's in custody," Zoe replied.

"And Mal? Where is Mal?"

Zoe frowned. "Thought he was here with you."

River shook her head, her inner voices screaming to be heard. "He and Jayne went looking for you, about an hour ago."

"Never saw them," Zoe said. "And the outpost ain't that big. If they were there, I'd have seen them."

"And on the way back, you didn't see anything?" River pressed.

"Nothing of the Captain nor Jayne," Zoe replied, unconsciously fingering her mare's leg.

"We have to find them," River said, a slight edge of hysteria in her tone.

"All right," Zoe said as calmly as she could considering River's unraveling state. "We'll go together. Just need to let the others know where we're going. Dong ma?"

River nodded, her hands trembling at her sides. "Hurry," she whispered.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part IV—Switch**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG13

Summary: Zoe and River go in search of Mal and Jayne, and something unexpected happens.

XXXXXXXXXX

"No one's been here matching that description tonight," the Alliance sentry insisted. "Matter of fact, it's been very quiet here."

"What do you mean, quiet?" Zoe asked.

The sentry shrugged. "Oh, you know, most nights we get our share of malcontents looking to cause a ruckus. Or sometimes just a group of rowdies who've had a little too much to drink, and the local law enforcement calls on us to deal them. Haven't seen any of that tonight. Quiet-like."

Something about that information made Zoe increasingly uneasy. Glancing at River, she saw that the younger woman was experiencing the same feeling. She turned back to the sentry. "If you should see anybody matching the description we've given, you can contact us on Serenity. We're docked on the third level of the Skyplex. Berth Eighteen."

The sentry nodded disinterestedly. "Sure," he answered, turning back to the book he'd been reading when they arrived. "Will do."

Though she held little hope that he would follow through, Zoe turned on her heels and walked back out into the common area of the Skyplex, River trailing behind. "You think he was telling the truth?" she asked quietly.

River nodded miserably. "Detected no falsehood in his statement," she said. "They didn't get this far."

Zoe looked at her sharply. "You got any notion where they stopped?" she asked.

"No," River replied, making a face. "Would have told you if I did."

Zoe sighed. "Best we start a grid search then. Want to split up, or stay together?"

"Cover twice the ground if we split up," River replied. "And we've got the comm units." Taking a moment to organize their search pattern, the two women agreed upon a time limit and a rendezvous point before heading their separate ways.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jim lay in his cell, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what the next day would bring. Harken had been cautiously hopeful, he thought, all things considered. However, the man had as much as admitted that he had never encountered a case quite like Jim's before. And all of his efforts to determine what had precipitated Jim's recall in a time of peace had met with a proverbial brick wall.

Hoping that the hearing would provide an answer of sorts, Harken had encouraged Jim to rest and let him do the worrying for both of them. While it was a fine sentiment, Jim was having more than a little trouble following his advocate's advice. Probably something about the fact that he was the one lying in the cell while Harken had gone home to what was presumably a nice warm bed left him with a case of insomnia that even Simon's little pills would not have been able to cure.

He thought about Zoe, her face impassive as he'd been led away to his cell, but her gaze revealing the depth of her worry to his practiced eye. She'd been through so much for so long, and he hated to be the cause, even by accident, of further distress to her. His intentions for her involved a more peaceful life, one where she could lose some of the weight that she carried on her shoulders, one where she could at least let him shoulder some of it in her behalf. Instead, once again he seemed to be a cause for serious worry on her part, and the idea of it was frustrating to him.

And then there was Anya, dear, sweet Anya, who'd seen so much disaster in her young life. She'd lost two parents already and if things turned out badly in the hearing, she might lose a third. How much loss was one child expected to take, he wondered bitterly as he tossed on the narrow bunk.

And then there was the cold, hard truth that he was worried for himself as well. He knew, with absolute certainty, that there was nothing the Alliance could do to force him to aid them in any way, nothing they could say that would sway his firm conviction that to serve their ends would be the worst of evils. He'd done that already, taking part in the destruction of an entire world at their bidding, and the scars from that act of moral weakness had taken the rest of his adult life so far to even begin to heal. The thought of his complicity with the destruction of Shadow still had the power to make him nauseous and profoundly ashamed.

And now, here he was again, in the clutches of a government without conscience, in a holding cell with his fate hanging on the expertise of a man whom he'd never met until today and a tribunal made up of the very same type of people who had ordered the atrocities on Shadow, on Miranda, and on countless other nameless worlds. It was going to be a long gorram night.

XXXXXXXXXX

Senator Michaels smiled widely as he listened to the update from his liaison to BlueSun. "So, it is done?" he asked in confirmation.

"Yes, Senator," the man replied patiently. "The target has been acquired and the final phase of the project has been activated. Now, it is simply a matter of monitoring the progress of the subject as the mission continues."

"Excellent," Michael said, pleased beyond measure at how smoothly the operation was proceeding under the capable guidance of the BlueSun Corporation. He had to admit that their involvement exponentially increased the likelihood of ultimate success for the Alliance. After all, there were advantages to dealing closely with the private sector, especially if one wished to avail oneself of the latest in technology.

"And he's been taken to a secure facility?" Michaels continued.

"He is currently en route to the maximum security detention center as outlined in the project protocols."

Michaels sighed, wishing for the briefest of moments that he could see the man in person. However, such an indulgence would be frowned upon at this stage, and so he tabled that idea for the time being. If things continued to go according to the plan, there would be plenty of time to follow through with his whim at his leisure.

Unaware of the Senator's train of thought, the thin man continued, "Have you conferred with our military contact on the Skyplex? Confirmed that our man will be sitting on the tribunal tomorrow?"

Michaels nodded impatiently. "Of course, everything has been handled on this end. There will be no surprises tomorrow. Of that you can be certain."

"Excellent," the BlueSun employee replied thinly. "In that case, I am needed elsewhere, if you'll excuse me, Senator."

Michaels nodded. "Of course," he replied evenly, watching the man leave with genuine pleasure.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe slowed at the entrance to yet another narrow corridor branching off from the center hub of the Skyplex. She'd made her way down thirteen of such corridors already and knew that River was mirroring her actions on the next level of the huge place. At their current rate, they would be nowhere near finished with their search before time for Jim's hearing in the morning. The thought gave Zoe's tired legs added impetus to move forward quickly.

She frowned, peering into the darkness of the corridor. Well aware that there should be a bank of overhead lights like the other corridors she'd searched, she could barely see her hand in front of her face as she moved forward. Unlike the steady traffic in the other corridors, there was nothing but an eerily oppressive stillness around her as she walked forward. She drew her mare's leg as her eyes adjusted to the low light.

Zoe could barely make out the shape of something lying on the decking in odd clumps. Her senses heightened, she could hear a faint rustling coming from several of the huddled shapes. She realized with a start that she was looking at people, all in various stages of consciousness and moving like sleepwalkers in the shadows. Her heart rate increased.

She approached the first group of people and leaned down to examine their faces more carefully. "What happened here?" she asked the first one she saw whose eyes were open.

The man looked at her numbly for a moment. "Don't know," he said finally, as if the act of stringing the words together was almost overwhelming. He looked around, obviously still dazed.

Zoe glanced at his unconscious companions and stood back up. Knowing that to question him further was useless, she moved forward, looking for anyone else who was beginning to stir. Advancing through the long corridor, she found many others, all either unconscious or in a stupor of sorts. No one seemed to know what had happened.

And then, just as she was beginning to think that the wisest course would be to make her way back to the center hub of the Skyplex and get someone in an official capacity to come and help all the people affected, she saw a coat she would have recognized anywhere. Rushing forward, she knelt beside the Captain and quickly checked for a pulse.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Zoe with a slow smile. "What's going on?" he asked.

Zoe frowned. "Was sort of hoping you could tell me, sir," she replied blandly.

Mal looked around as if orienting himself. "Where's Jayne?"

That query was answered by a rustling of clothes somewhere to Zoe's left. "I'm over here," Jayne answered sluggishly. "Got the mother of all headaches, but I'm here."

Zoe smiled and thumbed her comm unit, calling River. "Already on my way," River replied.

Zoe nodded, thinking that she should have known River would have picked up on her discovery already.

Mal sat up gingerly, looking around him all the while. "So, how long we been out?" he asked.

"Good three hours or more, best as I can figure," Zoe replied, eyeing him with concern. "Folks strewn all over this corridor in the same shape as you two, by the look of it."

Mal frowned. "Must have been some kind of glitch in the vent system or something." He stood up more easily than she would have thought.

Jayne was struggling to his feet as well. "Last thing I remember was a buzzin' noise," he said. "'Member, Mal? Right after we spotted those men followin' us?"

"What men?" Zoe asked sharply, her finger twitching on the Mare's leg.

Mal looked at Jayne blankly. "I don't remember any men," he said slowly. "You sure 'bout that, Jayne?"

Jayne huffed and then grimaced with the motion. "Pretty gorram sure," he said, rubbing his sore temples.

"What did they look like?" Zoe asked.

Careful not to move too quickly, Jayne shrugged. "Just two men, in gray suits, blending in pretty good with the crowd. Probably wouldn't have spotted them but for the fact I was antsy already."

Mal turned to Zoe, shaking his head. "I don't remember any men, nor any buzzing sound either. Could be Jayne got a knock on the head when we fell. You didn't see anybody in here looked like that, did you?"

"No," Zoe replied, mentally reviewing all the people she had seen in the corridor.

Before anything else could be said, River arrived. "Ai ren," she said, rushing toward Mal and wrapping her arms around him in relief.

"Bao bei," Mal replied, enfolding her in an embrace. "Who's watchin' my ship?"

"Simon and Kaylee," River replied. "And Inara."

Mal frowned, looking quickly at Zoe. "Where's Jim?"

"In custody," Zoe replied as they all headed out of the corridor. "There's going to be a hearing tomorrow. For tonight, he's in the outpost holding cell."

Though his head ached with the thought of it, Jayne growled, "Want we should get him out?"

"The advocate seems to think he's got everything under control," Zoe replied. "Jim sent word for me to go back to the ship for tonight."

Mal nodded, his arm draped over River's shoulders as they stepped out into the light of the center Skyplex hub. "Best we go on back to Serenity and get checked out. Figure what happened to us, and figure what to do about Jim."

"Sounds reasonable," Zoe replied, leading the way.

XXXXXXXXXX

His head pounded terribly, as if tiny men with jackhammers were working away behind his eyes. He opened one eye, and slammed it shut again immediately. Even the sparse light of his surroundings was too much for his beleaguered head.

He shifted slightly, reaching out with his hands to feel the area around him. It did not feel like the deck plating of the Skyplex, and he frowned, instantly regretting the motion as a sharp burst of pain stabbed through his head.

Drawing in a deep breath, he laid still. His mouth was bone-dry, and there was a slight ringing in his ears. Beyond the ringing, he became aware of the vibration of the floor beneath him, the sublte hum of an engine in flight. Perhaps he was on Serenity, he thought for one happy moment before he realized that if he were on his own ship, he would no doubt be lying in Simon's infirmary being poked and prodded.

Thinking wryly that it wouldn't have been thoroughly unwelcome at this point, he realized that he was neither on Serenity nor the Skyplex. That being true, he wondered where the diyu he was. He struggled to remember, to piece the puzzle together in some reasonable fashion. He knew he'd been walking with Jayne, headed toward the outpost on the Skyplex to see what was keeping Zoe. Beyond that, he remembered next to nothing. There had been a bussing noise, and then…..well then, there was nothing.

Shifting cautiously so as to avoid hurting his head, he heard the rustle of chains and became aware of the weight of them on his wrists. Letting out a long sigh, Malcolm Reynolds realized that wherever he was, this was not going to be his best day ever.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part V—Doppelganger**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Simon checks out his patients, and morning comes all too quickly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon looked up from his instruments to see everyone looking at him expectantly. He sighed. "Nothing. I'm sorry, but I can see nothing in these results to explain why you lost consciousness."

"Has to be somethin'," Jayne grumbled. "We were out at least a coupla' hours."

"Oh, it's obvious that something happened," Simon said unhappily. "It's just that there's no trace of whatever it was in your systems." He looked apologetically at Mal, who was scowling.

"Best guess?" Mal growled.

"If I had to name it, I would say that you were probably correct in your assumption that something was pumped into the ventilation system of that particular corridor of the Skyplex. According to Zoe, there were dozens of people who were affected just like you. However, that being said, I have absolutely no proof that that is what indeed happened. Any number of pathogens could have caused unconsciousness, and a great many of them would dissipate given enough time. Then, your blood samples would be clean, just as they are now."

"So, the bottom line is that whatever happened, we're good now?" Mal asked.

"'Cept for the mother of all headaches, you mean," Jayne said, still scowling.

"That is essentially correct," Simon acknowledged. "However, if either of you begins to feel worse, or to experience anything out of the ordinary, I need to know about it."

Mal nodded, slipping off the table and heading toward the door. "You'll be the first to know, doc," he said over his shoulder, heading toward the galley.

River followed, a troubled expression on her face.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What are we going to do about Jim?" River asked softly, matching her stride to Mal's as they entered the galley.

Mal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Ain't rightly sure," he admitted.

Zoe stepped down into the galley with a silent tread. "Hearing's gonna be in least than three hours. Don't look to me like you or Jayne is gonna be ready for any kind of rescue if things don't go Jim's way."

Mal accepted a cup of coffee gratefully from River's hand. "We'll do what needs doin' when the time comes," he said evenly, looking intently into Zoe's eyes. "What did you think of the advocate?"

"Harken?" Zoe said. "He seemed a decent enough sort. "But it's fair obvious he don't know what's goin' on with this whole thing."

Mal sighed. "Lot of that goin' around, apparently. He give you any idea what to expect at the hearing?"

Zoe shook her head. "Just told me what time to be there."

Mal nodded. "Well, then, best we'd be gettin' what rest we can before we have to be there."

"Don't know if they'll let you in," Zoe said a little reluctantly. "Harken said he'd have to leave word with the sentry to let me in. Hearing's closed to the public."

Mal grimaced and took a sip of the steaming liquid in his cup. "Somehow, that don't bode well."

"S'what I thought too," Zoe replied blandly.

"Well, there's nothing to stop us sitting outside the hearing room, is there?" Mal pressed. "That way, least we'd only be a minute or two away."

"But we'll have to be unarmed," River pointed out unhappily. "I'm certain they won't let us just sit there bristling with ordinance."

"Maybehaps not," Mal replied, a small twinkle in his eye. "But, I expect we can get to our weapons quick enough, should we need them." So saying, he pushed his chair back and headed toward the door. "Time to rest now. Tomorrow's coming sooner'n we think."

Zoe nodded and watched the Captain leave. She sat for a long time, staring at the galley wall and wondering why she had the little niggling worry that something was not quite right with her best friend.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal crawled into the bunk, turning his back to River and pulling up the covers. She curled herself against his back, draping her arm over his side. He wiggled slightly, readjusting his position to a more comfortable one and drifting off almost immediately into sleep.

River lay in the dark, listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling the familiar rhythm of his heart under her hand. Stilling the worry in her own head, she reached out tentatively, probing with a light touch into his mind. She rarely read her husband now without his express consent, knowing as she did that he still found the experience vaguely unsettling if it was thrust upon him suddenly. So, she kept her touch light, her mind skimming along the surface of his like a seagull over a restless ocean. Occasionally, she dipped further down, confirming the areas of light and shadow that were as familiar to her now as her own thoughts.

Concentrating, she frowned. Though everything she could sense seemed as it always had been, there was a small pocket of resistance that she had never encountered before, a dark place that was impenetrable to her. She pressed further, trying to break through the barrier. Mal shifted, obviously disturbed at least unconsciously by her intrusion. She withdrew quickly, strangely reluctant to let him know that she had been peeking into his psyche without permission. He settled almost instantly, falling back into a steady sleep rhythm.

She pulled away from him and pulled the covers over her shoulders, suddenly chilled. And turning her back to her husband, she stared blankly at the bulkhead, puzzling over what she had encountered.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jayne sighed as Inara's strong, soft hands kneaded the tense muscles of his shoulders and back. "F'you could bottle that stuff, you wouldn't never have to work again," he mumbled.

Inara smiled. "I could always become a massage therapist," she said. "Set up shop right here in the shuttle…"

"Don't think I like the sound of that," Jayne replied, his voice light as he relaxed under her hands. "But I can tell ya' that your hands are a gorram sight better at healin' what ails me than Simon's smoothers."

"Good to know," Inara said softly, leaning down to kiss the tender skin under his ear before lying beside him. "All better now?"

Jayne nodded contentedly. "Good thing too," he said, after a moment. "'Magine there'll be trouble tomorrow," he said, turning on his side and pulling Inara into the curve of his arm.

"You think the hearing won't go well?" she asked, a small frown wrinkling her smooth forehead.

"Recallin' Jim don't make any kind of sense, 'less there's somethin' we don't know," Jayne replied honestly. "And it's the go se we don't know that generally gets us near 'bout killed."

Inara shivered slightly. "But Mr. Bridgman seemed to think the advocate was a good man. And it could have just been some kind of mix-up to begin with, right?" She winced at the hopeful sound of her own voice.

"Could be, baby doll," Jayne agreed. "But that ain't the way I'd bet."

Thinking that there was nothing she could say to counter the certainty of his statement, Inara wisely stayed silent.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon stared at the ceiling, replaying the sequence of blood tests he'd performed on Mal and Jayne in his head for the hundredth time. He was certain that he'd missed nothing, but still a troubling doubt remained that there was something he should have done that he had neglected to do.

He got up, padding quietly out of the bunk so as not to disturb Kaylee. Stepping into the common area, he turned on the Cortex and checked for any news bulletins from the Skyplex. It stood to reason that if there had been some mishap with the ventilation system on the Skyplex, and that mishap had resulted in dozens of people dropping to the deck unconscious, there should be some acknowledgment of it, some explanation for it in the news. He scrolled quickly down the screen and stopped at the last item reported. Pulling up the complete story, he read it carefully.

While the report confirmed that there had been an incident on the Skyplex which affected several people, the official answer from the management of the Skyplex was that the ventilation systems had been checked and re-checked with no evidence of malfunction. Denying any knowledge of anything that would have created the problem, the management had released an official statement that an investigation would be forthcoming, but that, pending the outcome of the investigation, they were cautiously optimistic that their systems were not at fault.

Simon scrubbed his hands across his face, wondering if there was a class somewhere that taught public officials how to pass the buck so effectively while maintaining an air of concern for the public at large. If so, apparently the Skyplex management team had passed the course with flying colors.

He turned the screen off and headed silently back to the infirmary, thinking that it wouldn't hurt to run the tests one more time.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having slept less than fifteen minutes, Zoe walked to the cargo bay, her back ramrod straight as if she had slept through the night like a baby. Mal was already there, pacing like a caged tiger as he waited for the others.

Jayne showed up in short order, carrying enough ordinance for a small battalion of soldiers.

Mal glanced up at rolled his eyes. "Can't carry all that stuff, Jayne," he said dryly.

Jayne looked at him innocently. "Just thought I might need some of this," he said.

"Might at that," Zoe replied. "But it ain't highly likely the sentries will let you just waltz in there armed to the teeth."

Jayne scowled, dropping several weapons to the cargo bay floor. "How about now?" he asked, feeling somewhat naked.

"Vera's got to stay here," Mal said, grinning.

"You expect me to go to an Alliance outpost without Vera?" Jayne asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"You can always come back and get her, needs be," Mal said, looking at the chronometer. "But right now, we ain't got time to hash it all out. Hearing starts in less than an hour."

Grumbling, Jayne laid Vera lovingly on top of the pile as Mal lowered the ramp. "Be back soon's we can," Mal said, looking up at Simon, Kaylee, and Inara, who all stood on the catwalk watching the scene with varying degrees of worry.

"We'll be here," Simon replied, wishing not for the first time that his mei mei was not going with them. The thought of River intentionally walking into an Alliance outpost still had the power to cover him in a cold sweat. "Be careful."

"Oh, we will," Jayne replied fervently, wishing that he was not leaving Vera behind.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jim stood to greet Harken as he approached the cell. "Any word about what's going on?" he asked anxiously.

"None," Harken replied regretfully. "But that's all right," he hastened to add. "We'll argue on the basis of your physical limitations first, and then see where we have to go from there. Dong ma?"

"You want I should limp or something?" Jim asked, smiling crookedly in an attempt to lighten the tension he felt.

"Couldn't hurt," Harekn replied, grinning.

Jim nodded, and they headed toward the hearing room without another word.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal opened his eyes and sat up with a start, disoriented. For a moment, he stared blankly at the bulkhead, wondering where he was. Blinking slowly, he took in the nondescript gray sheen of the metal around him. He could hear the low hum of an engine and feel the faint vibration in the flooring that told him he was still in transit to wherever he was headed.

He looked carefully around the room, which was somewhat lighter now than it had been before. He could only surmise that the light was coming from the corridor outside the room in which he found himself. There seemed to be a small window of some sort in the door, and a faint light came from there. He shifted, the chains on his wrist rattling heavily on the floor. Following the path of the chains with his eyes, he saw that they were attached to a metal ring embedded in the wall. He gave them a slight tug, though he knew it was useless to do so.

His head still throbbed, but at least the pain was no longer blinding in its intensity. He stretched his legs and heard the sound of chains rattling at his ankles as well. Looking down, Mal noticed for the first time that his clothes were different. Somehow, his ordinary outfit of tan pants, soft cotton shirt, and his prized long brown coat had been replaced by a thin cotton uniform of some kind. He frowned, wondering what that signified.

Leaning back against the cold wall, he pondered what he knew, and decided that it was woefully inadequate. Wondering if Jayne was somewhere close by similarly chained to a wall, he closed his eyes and did the only thing he could think of given the uncertainty of his situation. He concentrated all his effort on sending River a mental message.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part VI—The Hearing**

Author: just-slummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Jim's military hearing takes place, and things go less than optimally.

XXXXXXXXXX

Gerard Hill had worked for the BlueSun Corporation for his entire adult life. This was nothing unusual, as employees in the particular branch of BlueSun in which he worked tended to be recruited very young and trained intensively over a period of years to be effective in their work. Such was the success of the training program that BlueSun could boast that the men and women in his department were completely interchangeable. They looked, sounded, and acted in an almost identical manner.

This uniformity made them a formidable force with which to be reckoned. Thus it was that Hill was completely unruffled by anything that he was asked to accomplish, be it meeting with and updating the obnoxious Senator Michaels or overseeing the progress of the subject BlueSun had substituted for Serenity's bothersome Captain. Hill, known by most outside his immediate circle simply as the thin man, was currently sitting perfectly at ease in front of the Senate Oversight Committee in a private meeting convened by Senator Michaels himself.

"From everything we can gather, the substitution was a seamless success," he said confidently. "There is no indication that anyone aboard the ship balked at our subject. He was accepted readily, and he reported this morning that the night passed uneventfully. The shielding is working superbly. He is, even as we speak, headed to the hearing for Mr. Bowden, along with Reynolds' wife, Zoe Bowden, and Jayne Cobb."

"As to the hearing, I have confirmed that things are going to proceed as they should," Senator Michaels said self-importantly as he looked at the other members of the Committee.

"About that," Senator Jordan interrupted. "I don't see why such a hearing was necessary. Surely there was an easier way to explain why our man will do what he's been instructed to do."

Hill spoke quietly, but something in his tone captured the attention of even the most powerful man in the room. "Reynolds chose his crew wisely. His wife, and her brother for that matter, are among the most intelligent people in the 'verse. The others, to a person, have qualities that make them uniquely suited as a team. It was not feasible to simply expect them to believe that Reynolds would suddenly decide to do the things called for in the protocol unless we provided a compelling reason for him to act. It is a well-known fact that he is intensely loyal to his crew. Such a catalyst would be something that his crew would more readily accept as a reason to follow him as he carries out his mission. It is, in point of fact, the only valid reason to explain his future actions."

Michaels nodded in agreement. "The situation called for subtlety, Jordan. Nothing less would have done."

Jordan grimaced. "We'll see as time progresses whether your 'subtlety' works," he said, addressing his remarks to Hill.

"Yes, we will," Hill said, not even slightly perturbed by the man's tone.

XXXXXXXXXX

Spying Zoe sitting on the bench behind the defense table, Jim smiled crookedly in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

Zoe looked slightly bored, and he wondered, as he often did, how his wife could pull off such feigned indifference in the face of crisis. Thinking that perhaps it was because of all the practice she'd had at it, his smile faded slightly.

Harken motioned for him to sit down at the table, and Jim did so reluctantly, wanting instead to speak to his wife for a moment. Sensing his client's desire, Harken nodded. "We've got about one minute before the members of the tribunal come in. Say what you need to say fast."

Jim nodded, turning quickly to Zoe. "You okay, darling?" he asked.

Zoe nodded, her lips twitching up in a parody of a smile. "Fine," she answered. "You?"

"Never better," Jim said, his blue eyes twinkling at the sheer absurdity of that statement.

Zoe snorted. "The others are just outside, if we need them."

Harken looked at her sharply. "I can't imagine why anyone else would be needed," he interjected. "I'm sure we can get this sorted out just fine. And no one else will be allowed in the room anyway."

"Right," Zoe said blandly, her eyebrow tilting upward.

Jim had to smother a short laugh. While he hoped it wasn't an issue, it was somewhat comforting to know that Mal waited outside, presumably with a plan should anything go awry.

Just as he was about to reply, a door in the side of the room opened, and Harken hoisted him up out of his seat by his elbow. "Look sharp," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Thought I was supposed to look incapacitated," Jim replied, straightening up nonetheless as five Alliance officers made their way into the room and took their seats.

XXXXXXXXXX

In the corridor outside the hearing room, River stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. Mal and Jayne turned to look at her.

"What's wrong?" Mal asked worriedly.

River stared at him blankly for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden strong sense she'd had that he was trying to communicate with her psychically. Her focus intensified, and she realized that what she had sensed was certainly a mistake, an insubstantial shadow. It had to be, because her husband was sitting right beside her, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown another head.

"What's wrong, River?" he repeated.

She shook her head quickly. "Nothing," she answered weakly. "Just, for a moment, I was….confused."

"Do you need to go back to the ship?" he asked, concern lacing his words.

"No, I'm….I'm fine," she said, though the truth was that she was feeling increasingly shaky.

Jayne shifted uncomfortably on the narrow bench. "How long's this thing gonna take, you figure?"

"Don't know," Mal replied. "But I'd guess that the longer it takes, the more likely it is that Jim's advocate is making a convincing case."

Jayne nodded and the three sat for a long time in silence.

XXXXXXXXXX

Phillip Harken was beginning to get a little flustered, a completely unaccustomed response in a hearing of this sort. For every solid argument he put forward to defend his client's right to refuse military service, the tribunal had an answering argument . In the past hour, Harken had come to realize that the five men who sat on the tribunal had not the slightest interest in the rights of his client. And he was still clueless as to why such a thing should be.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "If it please the court, may I point out that Mr. Bowden served with distinction during his youth. He was granted an honorable discharge. Now, my understanding of military law is that when a soldier is discharged, his service to the Alliance is severed."

"There are exceptions to every rule, Lt. Harken," one of the five said blandly. "The military has a responsibility to ensure the sovereignty of the Alliance in any way it deems fit. Provision was made at the inception of the first war for Independence that certain key personnel would be recalled in the event of renewed hostilities."

Harken slowly counted to five before answering. "I am aware of those provisions, Colonel. But there have been no 'renewed hostilities'. And even if there had, my client could hardly be considered 'key personnel'."

The colonel scowled with displeasure. "Firstly, it would behoove you to remember that it is not your job to determine who would be considered key personnel. That is a decision for someone with substantially more experience. And as for renewed hostilities, you must be aware that every threat the Alliance faces is not broadcast for all the worlds spinning to see. There are hotbeds of Independent resistance that are becoming more and more active all the time. They are resorting to terrorist acts in an attempt to undermine this government." He leaned forward in his chair, his bushy eyebrows drawn in a solid line across his forehead. "These acts are indeed to be considered as renewed hostilities."

Determined not to be cowed by the Colonel's intimidating demeanor, Harken held his ground. "Even if all of this is true, the fact remains that constitutionally, my client can not be called upon to re-enlist in the military if there are compelling reasons to disqualify him."

"Such as?" one of the other members of the tribunal asked quietly.

"As I stated earlier," Harken began. "Mr. Bowden was recently brutally attacked and injured in a profound way. I have produced the testimony of doctors who cared for him during that time for your review. And if you read their reports, you can understand that Mr. Bowden still suffers to some extent from the brain injury he received. This, of itself, should seriously bring into question his ability to serve as 'key personnel'."

"The report I read said that he is making marked progress in all areas," the Colonel fairly growled.

"But progress is not complete recovery," Harken protested as respectfully as he could. "Surely there are those who would be more qualified to serve." He could tell, even as he spoke the words, that they were falling on deaf ears. The five men on the tribunal looked positively stone-faced.

"It is the opinion of this court that Mr. Bowden's supposed physical limitations do not meet the standard for releasing him from his obligation to serve his government," the Colonel intoned.

Harken opened his mouth to protest yet again when the Colonel raised one meaty hand to stop his words. "This tribunal understands the basis of your arguments, Lt. Harken. We wish to hear from Mr. Bowden himself." Turning to Jim, he said imperiously, "Mr. Bowden, stand and address the court."

Jim rose easily and stood before the tribunal with his head held high. Harken, finding the whole turn of the proceedings increasingly abnormal, stood beside him silently.

"Mr. Bowden," the Colonel began. "First, this panel would like to express its appreciation for the fine service you performed for your government during your years of active military service."

Jim's jaw tightened, but he wisely refrained from making a statement.

"It appears to this court that, despite your unfortunate experience, you have recovered quite remarkably, due in large part to the excellent care you received with the benefits afforded you because of your years of distinguished service. As that is the case, please explain to this tribunal exactly why you would resist the call to serve your government again in a time of need."

Jim drew a deep breath, his mind whirring with the possible outcomes of what he was about to say. He could feel Harken beside him, tensed and ready to interject an objection if possible. "With all due respect, Colonel," he said softly. "I believe that there has been absolutely no proof that the Allied government is in a 'time of need'. Furthermore, I served when I was a young man, and served the time required. My life circumstances have now changed considerably. Not only have I experienced a severe brain trauma that lessens my ability to serve as a soldier, but I am now a married man, with a responsibility to my wife and my brother's child, who I am raising as my own. Surely there are men more qualified to serve."

The Colonel scowled darkly, though no one else on the tribunal reacted at all to Jim's words. "There are thousands of men in the military who have wives and children," he said dismissively. Rifling through the papers before him, the Colonel drew out a single sheet of paper and smiled almost benignly. "Step forward, Mr. Bowden, and take a look at this."

Jim stepped forward, Harken at his side straining to see what the Colonel handed his client. Reading through it rapidly, Jim handed it back to the Colonel grimly.

"Is that your signature, Mr. Bowden?" the Colonel asked.

"No," Jim replied without hesitation.

"It is your testimony before this tribunal that the signature on the bottom of this form is not yours?" the Colonel pressed.

"That is correct," Jim said, though his voice was strained.

The Colonel made a disapproving sound. "I must admit, Mr. Bowden, that I was afraid you would deny signing this paper. So, I took the liberty of hiring an expert in these matters, a man skilled at matching handwriting." He let the words hang in the suddenly tense air for a moment. "This court calls Major Moriarty forward."

Harken stepped forward. "I object to this entire thing, Colonel. I was not made aware of the existence of this form until two seconds ago, and Mr. Bowden has not been allowed to examine it thoroughly and….."

"Lt. Harken, sit down," the Colonel said firmly. "Mr. Bowden has answered the question, denying he signed the form. I will give you a moment to look at it more carefully, but you will find it self-explanatory. It very clearly states that Mr. Bowden is aware of the government's right to call him back to active duty at the sole discretion of the military."

He handed the form over to Harken with a satisfied flourish. Harken sat back down, looking at the form with a dawning sense of a trap having been set and sprung. Jim stood beside him, outwardly unperturbed.

"Call the witness," the Colonel commanded after a moment.

A middle-aged man stepped smartly into the room, clad in the uniform of a Major of the Alliance Armed Services. The Colonel smiled. "Major Moriarty, thank you for joining us today. If you would be so kind, could you confirm for this tribunal what you discovered when you compared the signature on this form with the signature on Mr. Bowden's official ID?"

Moriarty answered immediately. "The signatures match in every particular. There can be no doubt whatsoever that Mr. Bowden signed this paper."

"Thank you, Major," the Colonel said. "You are dismissed."

Harken rose to object, but was motioned sharply back into his seat by the Colonel. Turning to Jim, the Colonel said, "Is it still your testimony that you did not sign this paper?"

"It is," Jim replied evenly.

The Colonel sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "And what would you say, Mr. Bowden, if I told you that it is the opinion of this tribunal that you are perjuring yourself at this very moment?"

Harken shot to his feet. "Don't answer that, Jim," he said quickly.

The Colonel chuckled. "You do not have to answer the question, Mr. Bowden. I think it's painfully clear what your answer would no doubt be. So, let me ask a more pertinent question. Are you now prepared to do your duty to this government and comply with the summons to re-activate your service?"

Jim looked for a moment at Zoe, an unspoken apology in his eyes. Turning back to face the tribunal, he replied, "I wouldn't lower myself to serve this gorram travesty of a government for even one more moment of my life. Period."

The tribunal erupted in shocked surprise as Harken tried desperately to figure out what to say to counteract the horrific effect of Jim's words. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jim grabbed his arm, forestalling his words. "Leave it," he said. "There is no justice here."

The Colonel banged the gavel down on the conference table with a fierce strike. "I believe that Mr. Bowden's statement is sufficient for this tribunal to make its decision," he said. "James Bowden, it is the order of this tribunal that you report immediately to the commanding officer of this military outpost to accept your assignment."

"No," Jim answered calmly.

The Colonel sat back in his chair and looked at his fellow members of the tribunal. "Gentlemen, you have heard Mr. Bowden's refusal to obey a direct order. You have further heard the traitorous words he used in reference to our esteemed government. I submit to you that this man is guilty of insubordination, flagrant disrespect for our flag, and treason. All in agreement?"

Zoe watched in horror as four hands rose in answer to the Colonel's query. "So say we all," he said, banging his gavel down again.

"Colonel," Harken said, trying once more to turn the tide.

"It is done, Lt. Harken," the Colonel said sharply. "I would advise you to refrain from saying another word, lest this tribunal believe that you are willing to defend a treasonous rebel." Turning to Jim, he said coldly, "The penalty for treason, as every man in aware, is death. Sentence is hereby passed. An execution date will be set. You are remanded to custody until such time as sentence can be carried out." So saying, he banged his gavel once again for emphasis. "Take the prisoner back to his cell," he told the sentry.

With his death sentence ringing unpleasantly in his ears, Jim was handcuffed and marched out of the room while Harken and Zoe watched in stunned horror.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part VII—The Plan**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: With Jim's life hanging in the balance, the crew tries to find a way to save him, and Mal's family begins to question what exactly is going on.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harken grabbed Zoe's arm, frantic to tell her he was profoundly sorry for the way things had escalated during the hearing. Zoe looked at his hand pointedly and then met his troubled gaze. One look into her eyes made Harken drop his hand as if he'd been hit with an electric shock. "Mrs. Bowden, I……"

"Save it," Zoe hissed, pushing past him into the corridor where the others waited.

Seeing her entrance, Mal, Jayne, and River stood up. "Zoe?" Mal asked.

"The hun dans plan to kill him," Zoe said through clenched teeth.

"Kill 'im?" Jayne asked, looking back and forth between Zoe and Harken in disbelief. "That's sorta drastic, ain't it?"

"What happened?" Mal asked over Jayne's observation.

"He refused to report for a duty assignment," Zoe said. "And then he told them what he thought of the Alliance." She paused, thinking how proud she had been of Jim in that moment. "And next thing, they're accusing him of treason and sentencing him to execution."

"We'll appeal the decision," Harken interjected hastily. "There's no way what happened in there today will stand review."

Mal looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. "When?" he asked, turning back to Zoe.

"Didn't set a time," Zoe replied.

"Where?"

Zoe frowned. "Don't know that either. All to be determined later, according to the hun dan who was runnin' the show."

"Jayne, make sure Mr. Harken here gets back to his office. We're headed back to the ship," Mal said, turning on his heel.

"But…we need to discuss an appeal," Harken said.

"Jayne," Mal said.

"I got it," Jayne said, wrapping a large hand around Harken's forearm. "Best you come along with me," he said easily. "Don't think there's gonna be an appeal, exactly."

Harken, feeling Jayne's fingers clamp around his forearm like bands of steel, knew he had better comply.

XXXXXXXXXX

"They're gonna kill him?" Kaylee asked, her eyes wide with worry.

Zoe looked around the galley table at Serenity's crew, every eye fastened on her as she related what had happened in the hearing room.

"No, they're not," Mal said grimly, a muscle in his jaw flexing with anger. "'Cause we're not gonna let 'em."

"How are we going to stop them?" Anya asked in a small voice, looking up at Mal with all the certain hope of youth in her eyes.

Mal smiled at her, though to River the smile seemed forced somehow. "Well, little one," he said. "We're going to go back to the outpost and get him out of jail. Simple as that."

"Don't sound so simple," Adam observed solemnly. "There's lots of soldiers at an outpost, right?"

"Not so many we can't handle them," Mal said firmly. "Dong ma?"

Both children nodded, though the adults looked rather more skeptical. Mal continued, "Best you all be getting back to your lessons with Miss Inara, and let us suss everything out." When they hesitated, he said firmly, "Go on."

Adam took Daniel's hand and Anya retrieved Hannah from River's arms. And together the children walked glumly to their lessons, each harboring the disquieting thought that something was not quite right in their small world.

XXXXXXXXXX

"It's suicide," Jayne said, his brow wrinkled in consternation. ""Our guns against an entire outpost?"

A vein throbbed in Mal's temple. "You got a better suggestion?" His blue eyes blazed with irritation.

"We could wait," Jayne said slowly. "Wait until they're transporting him wherever he's gonna go for the execution. There'd be fewer of 'em to deal with that way. Might catch a break."

"And we might not," Mal said shortly. "We don't even know if they're going to transport him at all. For all we know, they'll do it right there in the gorram cell."

Zoe closed her eyes for a moment, the mental image of Jim hanging from the ceiling of a jail cell making her momentarily nauseous. Willing her mouth to move, she said, "Jayne's right, sir. Supposing we could miraculously outshoot an entire outpost of Alliance soldiers. We couldn't just walk calmly back through half of the Skyplex and take off."

"And there are the children to consider," River said, adding her dissenting voice to the mix. "If something goes wrong, what would happen to the children?"

Mal's lips thinned into a straight line. "We make sure nothing goes wrong then. Zoe, he's your husband, and he's my crew. I ain't standin' by whilst they take him out. Dong ma?"

"Nor am I, sir," Zoe said, the faintest tinge of steel in her tone. "But I want to be gorram sure that whatever we do has a better than average chance of success. And goin' in guns blazin' doesn't, to my way of thinking."

Kaylee looked anxiously between Mal and Zoe, having never seen them so obviously at odds about anything. "Maybe we could get into the outpost in some kind of disguise," she suggested, hoping to defuse the tense situation. "Get to where Jim is and…spring him."

"This ain't a game, li'l Kaylee," Mal replied sharply.

Kaylee ducked her head, shocked that he used that tone with her. The others, similarly startled, said nothing for a moment. Mal swallowed thickly, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Didn't mean to snap at you, mei mei. Just think security's gonna be tight enough around Jim that we couldn't just waltz in there and 'spring him' as you call it."

"Perhaps we could get to him another way," Simon said, thinking aloud. As everyone turned to look at him, a faint flush rose to his cheeks. "I mean, perhaps it would be easier to just walk in the front door instead of trying some kind of subterfuge."

Mal crossed his arms over his chest. "Go on," he said, leaning his hip against the galley counter.

"Well," Simon began. "It's a matter of record at the outpost that Jim is recovering from brain trauma, correct?'

"Yes," Zoe said. "Spent hours hashing through it at the hearing."

"So," Simon said. "It would not be completely unreasonable for his personal physician to be called to examine him should he have a health emergency, correct?"

"I expect there's a military doctor assigned to the outpost," Mal said. "Not likely they'll let you in if he's available."

"Then we make it so that he is not available," Inara said softly. "Suppose he was out of place for some reason."

There was silence as they all considered the possibilities. "Lot of maybe's and surely's in this plan," Mal said dryly. "And we don't know how much time Jim has before…"

"We can buy some time with Harken's appeal," Zoe said quietly. "Probably won't give us long, but maybe it will be long enough."

Mal nodded shortly, though he looked less than pleased. "All right. River, you find out what you can about the doctor's schedule and habits. He's bound to leave the outpost sometime. And when he does, we can be there to ensure he doesn't report back in for duty."

River nodded.

"Simon," Mal said, turning to the doctor. "Need you to figure a way to give Jim a health problem that's convincing enough that they'll let you in. Only one of us they'll let in to see him now is Zoe. So, it'll have to be something she can get to him without detection. Think you can come up with something like that?"

Simon nodded. "I'm certain I can."

"Jayne, you and I will take another look at the security at the outpost. I ain't firmly convinced there won't need to be some shooting."

Jayne nodded, more than happy with the thought of having a plan that had at least a minimal chance of success and the possibility of taking Vera out to play.

Mal scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly. "All right, people, let's go. Jim may not have much time."

Matching action to his words, he left the galley, heading back to take a look at the layout of the outpost once again.

XXXXXXXXXX

River sat on the bridge looking through the duty roster she's hacked from the Alliance outpost earlier in the day. The system had been woefully inadequate to fend off her inquiries and she was grateful that at least one part of the plan was going smoothly. Engrossed in her work, she almost missed the small burst from the console. She turned her attention to it immediately, realizing that it was indicative of a transmission being sent from somewhere on Serenity. She frowned as she tried to identify the source of the transmission and its destination. Both were encoded in a complex code she did not readily recognize, and before she could make any record of it, the burst ended abruptly.

Making her way to their bunk, she found Mal sitting at his desk looking at the blueprints for the Skyplex. He looked up and smiled. "Everything shiny, bao bei?" he asked.

"Don't know," River replied. "Something strange just happened on the bridge."

"Like what?" Mal asked, though he did not seem unduly alarmed by her statement.

River frowned, filing his reaction away for later contemplation. "There was a transmission from somewhere in the ship."

"So?" Mal asked. "Probably just one of the crew talking to someone on the Cortex."

River shook her head. "No," she said. "It was a coded transmission, sent to a destination I couldn't decipher. It disappeared before I could record it."

"You sure you weren't just…imagining it, darlin'?" Mal asked softly, rising from his chair to reach for her. "You've been a little…..off today." His hands ran gently up and down her bare arms. "Maybehaps the stress has been a little too much. Why don't you lie down? Tomorrow's soon enough to figure out what happened."

"I know what happened," River said sharply. "I know what I saw."

"All right," Mal said, holding his hand up in a defensive gesture. "No need to get tetchy about it. But if you didn't get a fix on the transmission, I don't see as we can do anything about it. Just…you know…keep your eye out to see if it happens again."

River nodded and allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the usually comforting rhythm of his heart. But somehow, somewhere in the nebulous regions of her soul, she found no comfort in his arms, just a vague sense of unease. Perhaps the stress was truly getting to her, she thought tiredly, forcefully banishing her disquieting thoughts from her mind. He was right. Tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what was going on.

XXXXXXXXXX

Adam lay in his bed, unable to sleep. Usually, when he had trouble sleeping, his father would come into his room and read him a story or tell him something about when he was a little boy. But Daddy had been very busy tonight, and Adam knew he shouldn't expect him to come. Still, the thought occurred to him that Daddy always came, regardless of what was happening. He frowned.

"You still awake, little fella'?" he heard from the corridor. Mal stuck his head in the door. "Seems to me your Mama told you to go to sleep about an hour ago."

"Can't sleep," Adam said, though his wide yawn belied his statement.

"I see," Mal said, smiling. "Think a story might do the trick?"

"Maybe," Adam grinned. "We could read the next chapter, if you wanna'."

Mal looked at him blankly for a moment.

Adam rolled his eyes. "You know, the next chapter," he prompted.

Mal glanced around the room and saw the book sitting on the small nightstand beside Adam's bed. Picking it up, he opened it and frowned. "Remind me where we left off," he said, smiling.

Adam took the book from his father's hand and obediently turned to the correct page. "Here," he said.

Mal grinned, sat down on the edge of the bed, and started to read. Adam watched him closely, a little disappointed that his father had forgotten what they had read together just two nights before.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part VIII—Suspicion**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Adam confides in his mother, and River sets out to see what's what.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mama, can I talk to you a minute?" Adam asked, peering around the side of the door to the bridge.

River turned from the console, where she'd been trying to resurrect some semblance of the transmission she'd seen the night before. "Of course," she replied, giving her son a warm smile.

Adam climbed up into her open arms and curled his little body around her. "Somethin's wrong with Daddy," he whispered.

Dread slid along River's spine at his words. She knew that Adam was acutely attuned to his father, sometimes even more so than she. "What do you mean, baby mine?" she said as calmly as she could.

Adam looked up into his mother's eyes and saw the faintest shadow of fear there. "He didn't remember where to start reading our story," he said.

River's fear eased slightly. "Well, Adam, a lot has been happening, with Mr. Jim being in custody and everything. Your father is very worried about him."

"I don't think so," Adam said solemnly, shaking his head. "I mean, he's not worried like you're worried, or Miss Zoe, or Miss Kaylee."

"What makes you say that?" River asked softly.

Adam frowned for a moment, trying to put into words what he knew in his heart. "Everybody else is loud when they worry. Daddy is too, most of the time. But he's not loud now." His voice faltered for a moment. "And he didn't do the voices right."

"What voices?" River asked past the growing lump in her throat.

"The voices in our story. He always does the voices. And last night, he just read the words….no voices."

River drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Forcing a reassuring smile to her lips, she kissed the tip of Adam's nose. "I'll find out what's going on with Daddy, and then everything will be all right. Dong ma?"

Adam nodded, squeezing his mother a little more tightly before climbing out of her lap. "Okay, Mama," he said. "But…be careful."

River nodded solemnly. "I will, I promise. Now run along to breakfast. I'll be there in a few minutes."

As Adam made his way to the galley, River sat staring at the console, her mind a maelstrom of worry and suspicion. Thus distracted, she did not sense Mal's presence in the darkened corridor, where he had listened to her son's conversation. Setting his jaw firmly, he quietly withdrew. Something would have to be done about the boy.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I think I've found something that will do the trick," Simon said to the adults assembled at the table. The children had all been herded off to play in the common area so that Jim's escape could be planned in earnest. "Since it is a matter of record that he has certain neurological impairments, I thought it would be best to use a drug that would simulate the effects of a stroke or a seizure of some sort."

"There's a drug that does that?" Mal asked.

Simon smiled slightly. "Well, that's not its intended purpose, of course. But there is a combination of a couple of drugs that would make it appear he was having a…neurological event."

"Without really hurting him?" Zoe asked.

"It wouldn't be harmful to him if the correct drugs are administered to reverse the effect within, say, an hour of onset. I would think that would be sufficient time for the guards to become aware of the problem and send for me. Especially if you are there when it happens to bring it to their attention."

"What if they don't call for you?" Zoe asked. "Could be they just decide to let him die. Save the cost of an execution."

"Unlikely," Mal said. "Fair certain they want to make an example of him, if they plan to be calling others back into service."

"That was my thinking as well," Simon concurred. "Though as a contingency, I could provide you with the correct antidote just in case."

Zoe nodded. "I'd be obliged."

"All right then," Mal said. "So, Zoe gets the drug to Jim, he takes it, has his reaction. Zoe calls for help. Soldiers figure out their doc is out of the picture, Zoe calls for Simon. Then what?"

"I'll say that I don't have the proper medication to give him in my bag and that he needs to be transported to the ship."

"At which point, if they agree, they'll sent a group of soldiers to guard him during transport," River said.

"Least six, would be my guess," Jayne added. "Shouldn't be a problem to take out six."

"Could be more," Mal said.

Jayne shrugged. "Ever how many, at least it won't be the whole gorram outpost."

"Good point," Mal replied dryly. "Now, what about the Alliance doctor? River, d'you find out what we need to know?"

River nodded. "He'll be off duty this afternoon. Assuming he leaves the outpost to do anything at all, we should be able to get him out of the way."

Mal nodded, smiling at her. "Good job. Jayne, you and I can handle that little chore. Doc, you get the things Zoe will need ready. Sounds to me like we can, with a little luck, get this done today."

Nodding, the crew disbursed to their assignments.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe nodded, tucking the tiny vial into the top of her boot. "You're sure this isn't gonna hurt him permanent-like?"

"I'm positive," Simon said, smiling reassuringly at her. "We've worked too hard to get him to where he is for me to screw things up now."

"S'what I was thinking," Zoe said, her lips twitching with the barest hint of a smile. "Case I haven't said it, doc, I'm grateful for all you've done for Jim, and for me."

Simon flushed slightly, uncomfortable as always with the praise. "Just part of my job," he said awkwardly.

Zoe shook her head, wondering if the doctor would ever be truly comfortable in his own skin. "Still, I thank you," she said over her shoulder as she left the infirmary.

Simon turned back to the counter to mix an extra dosage of the antidote in case something went awry. He smiled slightly, thinking that something going awry was the rule rather than the exception with this crew. Hearing a light footstep behind him, he turned to see River coming into the infirmary.

"What's wrong, mei mei?" he asked, instantly alarmed by her demeanor.

"I'm….I'm not sure," she said. "I need you to do something for me. Something very important."

"What?" Simon asked, giving her his undivided attention.

River took a deep breath and wrapped her arms across her chest. "Do you still have the blood samples you took from Mal when he and Jayne were unconscious?"

"Yes," Simon said. "The information is stored in the scanner. But I've run it several times, River. There's nothing wrong with it."

"I know," River said. "But I need you to run that sample against an earlier sample of Mal's blood, if one is available. Can you do that?"

"I've got baseline information filed on all the crew," Simon said. "The information from blood samples, DNA, all of that. But why would you want me to do that? What's going on?"

"I don't know," River said, shivering slightly. "Maybe nothing. Maybe something terrible. It's just……" Her words trailed off disjointedly.

Simon reached for her, drawing her into his arms. "It's okay, mei mei. Just tell me what you think is going on. We can figure it out together."

"You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you," River murmured against his chest.

"I think you're crazy anyway," he said, lifting her chin so that she could see his smile.

River smiled shakily. "You're such a boob," she said affectionately.

"And you're such a brat," Simon replied, in the ritual that was comforting to them both. "Now, tell me what you think is going on."

"I think Mal isn't Mal," she blurted out.

Simon blinked slowly, absorbing that statement. "Because?" he prompted.

"He's…different," River said, finding it very difficult to put into words the vague feelings she had. "There's a darkness in him that wasn't there before." She looked into Simon's puzzled eyes. "I know my husband, know his body and his mind. There's something there that wasn't there before he went into that corridor on the Skyplex. Something I can't read through. And Adam, well, Adam thinks there's something wrong too, though he can't see what it is any better than I can. Something happened to Mal in that corridor that changed him. I know it."

Simon swallowed thickly. Though her words suggested something fantastical, he could see that she was convinced of what she was saying. And that, added to the thought that Adam had picked up on a difference as well, was more than enough to make him question things himself.

"I'll run the tests," he said quietly. "It shouldn't take too long."

"I'll wait," River said, unaccountably uncomfortable with the thought of leaving him before the tests were complete.

Simon nodded and turned to his task with a surprisingly steady hand.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hill frowned, re-reading the transmission from his subject. There were of course many variables in a protocol as complex as the one currently in motion, and this particular complication was one that had been at least marginally anticipated. The boy was apparently gifted well beyond his years.

Hill thought for a moment. One of the pitfalls of the rapid switch had been that there would be a small block of time in the real Reynolds' memories that could not be recorded and imprinted in the new and improved Reynolds before he was put into action. Apparently the boy had managed to find some small evidence of the gap in knowledge. And while that did not in any real way derail the project, it was a small glitch that would need to be addressed.

Deciding that the Senate Oversight Committee need not be updated about this particular transmission, Hill downloaded it from the corporate database into his personal one. Then, very carefully, he erased the file, making sure to leave no evidence of the transmission at all. One never knew when Michaels might demand to see the files, as the Senator was particularly interested in this project.

When he was satisfied that no trace of the communication remained, Hill sat back in his chair and pondered exactly how to handle the problem of the boy. His man would, after all, be expecting an answer with his next communication.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. "They're a match, River. I've run the samples three times, and I get the same results each time. The DNA matches exactly. Mal is…Mal."

Wondering why the information did nothing to alleviate the feeling of dread she felt, River sighed. "So, I'm just…imagining it?" she asked, sounding more shaky than Simon had heard in a very long time.

"I didn't say that," Simon said gently. "There could very well be something unusual going on. But whatever it is, the DNA doesn't tell us. The best thing to do is…." He paused for a moment, trying to think how to finish that sentence. "The best thing to do is to just be watchful. If there is truly something wrong with Mal, we'll find out what it is."

She looked at him skeptically.

"We will, I promise," he said, pulling her back into his arms. "I promise."

River closed her eyes, praying that Simon could deliver on that promise sooner rather than later.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part IX—Shadow of Doubt**

Author: just-slummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Hit or Miss docks with the Skyplex, and Jayne discovers something that gives him pause.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus climbed out of bed and into his pants in one fluid motion. Elizabeth sat up, leaning on her elbows and squinting at her lover. "What time is it?" she murmured.

Marcus grinned and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. "Time to be up and about. It's afternoon on the Skyplex."

Elizabeth sighed, still not quite used to the seesawing time differences involved in long distance space travel. She ran her hands through her hair and tried to look as if she had not just spent the last several hours engaged in rather energetic activity in her Captain's bed. "You sure you've got to go?" she asked somewhat hopefully.

Marcus sat back on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on. "Yep," he replied. "Ship docked about twenty minutes ago."

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "I didn't even notice," she said.

"Well, you were….rather involved in something else at the time," Marcus said, his eyes twinkling merrily as he watched the blush rise to her cheeks.

"I thought you were too," she replied saucily.

Marcus shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a multi-tasker." When she rolled her eyes, he continued, "Anyway, Murdocke's gonna get the part we need and I'm gonna check to see if there's any mail. Anything you want while I'm out?"

"No," Elizabeth replied. "Just come back as soon as you can, and I'll be happy." She smiled wickedly at him.

The sight set his pulse racing in a most pleasant way. "I'll do that," he replied, his voice a bit huskier than it had been a moment before. "But I was thinking I'd stop along the way long enough to find a little chocolate."

"The real stuff?" Elizabeth asked, not quite able to mask her excitement completely.

"If I can find some," Marcus said, grinning. He had come to know that Elizabeth liked nothing in the 'verse so much as a piece of very dark chocolate. On the rare occasions he'd been able to procure some, just watching her indulge her appetite had been well worth any price he'd been asked to pay.

Elizabeth sank back against the pillows with a satisfied smile. "In that case," she said. "Do hurry back."

"Will do," Marcus said, leaning down for one more kiss before heading out.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jayne watched the entrance of the outpost from his vantage point across the corridor. He saw Mal, standing casually in his position as well, on the lookout for the Alliance doctor. Jayne wondered what they would do if the doctor decided not to leave the outpost. It was always possible that the man would just go to whatever quarters he had and rest.

When he'd mentioned as much to Mal, Mal had dismissed the notion right away. "If you had some downtime, wouldn't you leave the outpost if a whole Skyplex of possibilities was right outside the door?" he'd said.

Jayne wasn't convinced of that line of reasoning. After all, it didn't take him long to get tired of the attractions of the Skyplex himself, and he didn't live close to it on a regular basis. But still, he sat in position, watching for the doctor to make his appearance.

Just as he was beginning to think his pi gu was growing to the chair on which he sat, Mal walked up to him. "Gonna go around the back, see if I can see anything," he said.

Jayne nodded, shifting. "I'll be here," he replied, bored with the whole thing.

Mal nodded and walked off. Jayne sat, looking at the entrance and feeling his stomach begin to rumble uncomfortably. The smell of food wafted in the processed air of the corridor, and Jayne grimaced. At this rate, he and Mal would not make it back to Serenity in time for supper. He toyed with the idea of leaving his post for long enough to grab a bite to eat, but figured that as soon as he did, the gorram doctor would choose just that minute to come out. So, he sat.

Another half hour passed, and Jayne's mood became more sour by the minute. Thinking that Mal should be back by now, he decided to risk missing the doctor long enough to see what was keeping the Captain. Keeping the entrance in sight, he moved toward the corridor Mal had gone down earlier.

Peering down the long corridor, he caught sight of Mal's coat, half hidden behind a small side corridor. Jayne frowned. He hadn't seen the side corridor when they'd walked the perimeter of the outpost before. And as far as he could tell, there would be no reason for Mal to be there now. Deciding quickly to just check the situation out, he moved into the corridor and headed for the coat.

Before he got very far, Mal stepped out into the corridor and looked at him in surprise. "Thought I told you to watch the entrance," he said shortly.

Jayne nodded, not inclined to be cowed by the other man. "Thought you might be in some trouble when you didn't come back," he said easily.

Mal glanced at the small corridor from which he'd just come. "Doesn't matter anyway, I conjure," he said flatly. "I found the doctor."

"You did?" Jayne asked.

Mal nodded. "He won't be a problem now. Best we get on back to the ship and send Zoe for Jim."

Jayne frowned. "What did you do with 'im?" he asked, knowing that the plan had been to take the doctor some distance away from the outpost, lest he somehow get free before they could get to Jim.

Mal looked at him impatiently. "What I had to do," he said shortly. "Now come on."

Jayne nodded, though the situation did not seem quite right somehow. Mal walked away, not bothering to look behind to see if Jayne followed. Curious, Jayne quickly stepped into the small corridor. He stopped abruptly, taking in the scene before him.

The doctor lay on the decking, limp as a rag doll in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. A large slit ran from one ear to the other like a macabre smile. Jayne stumbled back out into the corridor, casting a quick look at the Captain's retreating back. Shaken more than he cared to admit, he followed Mal, stunned by what he had just seen.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm telling you something ain't right," he said.

"Are you certain the Captain did it?" Inara asked, casting about for some explanation that made sense.

Jayne scowled at her. "Weren't nobody else in that corridor, as I could see. And Mal was gone awhile."

"Still," Inara said, not wanting to believe the Captain capable of such savagery. "I can't imagine Mal just…killing him like that unless….unless maybe the doctor was resisting being taken or something."

"I didn't have long to look, but it looked to me like whoever sliced his throat did it from behind," Jayne said.

"But the plan was simply to get him out of the way, not kill him," Inara protested weakly.

"I know what the gorram plan was," Jayne said. "But I also know what I saw. Mal killed that man sure as I'm standing here."

Inara frowned, heartsick. "What are you going to do?"

Jayne looked at her sharply. "Ain't nothin' to be done," he said harshly. "Seems to me it's already done, and nothing more to do about it. It just don't set right with me , is all."

"Well, you'll have to talk to him about it," Inara said firmly. "Maybe there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for what happened. Maybe he discovered something that made it necessary for him to…to kill that man."

"Whatever the reason is, I ain't got time to talk to him about it now," Jayne said, squaring his jaw. "He's already sent Zoe to the outpost with the drugs. And if anyone should find that doc's body, they'll tighten up security faster'n you can spit. I gotta be ready."

Inara nodded, swallowing nervously. "I know." She laid her hand on Jayne's tense shoulder. "Jayne, be careful."

"Oh, believe me, I will," Jayne said, strapping Vera to his chest and heading out of the shuttle.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe walked calmly toward the sentry on duty, unaware of any problem with the plan. She could feel rather than see Mal and Jayne in the corridor in their positions, ready to see to any disturbance that occurred. And she knew that Simon waited in the wings, ready to perform his part when the time came. River, too, was ready, warming Serenity's engine even now for their escape.

"I'm here to see my husband," Zoe said, approaching the sentry.

"Name?" the sentry asked, as if he hadn't watched her sit on the bench waiting for Jim for hours two days ago.

"My name is Zoe Bowden," she said, holding her temper in check. "And my husband is Jim Bowden."

The sentry looked at his terminal. "ID, please."

Zoe produced her card and waited, amusing herself by picturing her hands wrapped around the sentry's scrawny neck.

"All right," the sentry said after what seemed too long a pause. "Step through here." He indicated a narrow hallway. "Prisoners sentenced to death can have two visits per week. And there will, of course, be a search conducted each time you come. Dong ma?"

Zoe nodded tightly and turned to be searched. Motioning two guards forward, the sentry gave them their instructions. "Take her to see prisoner 41328. She's his wife."

Zoe thought for a brief moment that she saw pity in the eyes of one of the guards, but she dismissed the notion quickly. It was much easier to be angry than to acknowledge that some of the soldiers in the outpost might be decent folk just doing their job.

She was pleased to see that the guards did not seem overly zealous in their search. Hence, they did not request that she remove her boots and the tiny vial was safe from their inspection. Thinking that this outpost was certainly not ready for another war, Zoe wondered once again why they had recalled Jim to active duty in the first place. Though she supposed it did not matter in the larger scheme of things, the question still bothered her a bit.

Cleared for her visit, she followed the guards to a small room at the end of the hall and sat down to await Jim. She examined the room carefully for any sign of electronic surveillance, but she found none. Hardly crediting that as possible, she determined that they must be using a system more sophisticated than she could pick up with the naked eye. She would have to convey the plan to Jim carefully.

Within a few minutes, Jim was pushed into the room, shackled at wrists and ankles. He gave Zoe a rueful smile. "Guess that didn't go just like we'd hoped," he said softly.

"Not exactly," Zoe said, standing to wrap her arms around him. "But then again, things rarely do."

"True enough," Jim said, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent of her. He closed his eyes, suddenly struck anew by how much he loved the woman. "Zoe, I'm sorry," he whispered against the shell of her ear. "I know I shouldn't have said all that I said in the hearing, but I…."

"I've never been so proud of you in my life," Zoe whispered, her lips brushing the stubble on his cheek as her hands trailed down his back.

"Ten minutes," the guard said, sticking his head briefly through the half-closed door.

Zoe felt Jim tense beneath her hands. "You're getting out of here," she whispered fiercely.

Jim smiled grimly. "In a body bag, maybe," he said.

"No, on a stretcher, I conjure," Zoe replied, her voice so low he could scarcely make out her words. Pulling him toward the bench in the room, she sat down and motioned for him to follow. Quickly whispering the bare outline of the plan while being careful to look as if they were simply kissing, she slipped the tiny vial from her boot. "Do you want me to inject it?" she asked, sliding her hand along his bare arm.

"How long before it takes effect?" he asked.

"Simon said about five minutes," Zoe replied.

"Then let's wait a couple of minutes," he said softly, capturing her lips in a real kiss.

XXXXXXXXXX

River sat on the bridge, checking Serenity's systems for the third time to be sure everything was in order. Once everyone was aboard, she would have to move quickly to get Serenity airborne and well away from the Skyplex before their ruse was discovered.

Inara stepped onto the bridge with a delicate step. "All systems go?" she asked.

River nodded. "We're ready."

"Good," Inara said, sinking down into the co-pilot's chair. Wondering if she should mention her worries now or wait until they were safely away from the Skyplex, she hesitated.

"Should just say it," River replied, picking the thought out of the air easily.

Inara cleared her throat. No matter how long she was around River, it was still disconcerting what the younger woman could do. "Did Mal mention anything to you about what happened with the Alliance doctor?"

River frowned. "Just that he would not be a problem," she replied.

Inara inhaled deeply. "Jayne saw something….something that…well, something that Mal did that was not at all like…Mal." She broke off her words, thinking how ridiculous they sounded.

River stared at her for a long moment, her heart beating wildly at her throat. "Tell me," she ground out.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	11. Chapter 11

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part X—Chaos Theory**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The crew gets Jim out of jail, but complications develop.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe watched her husband carefully. Jim sat, to all outward appearances calm, though he rubbed distractedly at the site of the injection. Minutes ticked by inexorably. "Zoe, I think…." he managed to get out as Simon's drug cocktail finally seized his body with more violence than Zoe had imagined.

Her heart racing madly, she caught him as he jerked forward, preventing him from falling face first on the hard decking. Laying him down gently, she turned him on his side, as Simon had instructed. It would not do for him to swallow his tongue in the throes of the drug-induced seizure. Gently cushioning his head while preventing it from banging violently against the floor, she called for the guards.

They stepped into the room quickly, startled by what they saw. "What happened?" one of them asked before he could stop himself.

Zoe shook her head. "He was just sitting there, and then….we need a medic, right now!"

One guard ran out into the corridor in search of the doctor. Precious moments passed, ticking in Zoe's head like a metronome. She could hear the stamp of many boots coming in her direction, just before four men burst into the room.

Swearing sharply in Mandarin, the commander took in the scene.

"Where's the doctor?" Zoe asked sharply.

"He's…well, he's off duty for the afternoon," the commander said. "We're trying to locate him now."

Playing her part to the hilt, Zoe said, "We don't have time. Can't you see he needs a medic right now?"

Jim jerked violently and Zoe thought grimly that he could not have timed it better had he tried.

The commander's face flushed with anxiety. "Ma'am, we're doing the best we….."

"There's a medic on our ship," Zoe cut in, giving him no time to finish. "We're docked on the third level. I can call him. He could be here in minutes."

She gazed at the commander intently, knowing that his next words would make or break the escape plan.

He drew a deep breath and looked at the writhing Jim. "All right," he said abruptly. "Call your medic." Motioning to one of the guards, he said, "Take her place. Keep him from hurting himself until she gets back."

Swiftly shifting positions so that the guard could comply, Zoe stood and headed for a comm.

XXXXXXXXXX

River gripped the arms of the pilot's chair, white-knuckled with tension, as Inara told her what Jayne had seen.

"There must be some mistake," River rasped.

Inara looked at her in pity. "That's what I said. But Jayne…well, he was very upset. I don't think he wanted to believe what he saw either, but…he's fairly certain."

River's nerves, frayed already from her own suspicions, threatened to snap entirely. Feeling the dishearteningly familiar descent into chaos that she usually managed to keep at bay beginning, she drew a deep breath and focused on maintaining her control. "I….I'll find out what happened. Tell Jayne I'll find out."

Inara nodded, rising to go. As she neared the door, the comm system came to abrupt life. Zoe's voice filtered onto the bridge. "Send Simon. Tell him to hurry."

"He's on his way," River managed to say, though her throat was suddenly very tight.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon took one look at Jim and estimated that they had about thirty minutes to get the antidote into him without any permanent damage. He turned to the commander and said calmly, "I can give him something to stop the seizure, but he will need to be examined carefully thereafter and monitored for several hours. Where is your physician?"

Looking thoroughly harried, the commander replied, "He hasn't answered his page. I'm not sure when he'll be back."

Simon frowned, looking as impatient as he could. "That's unacceptable. This man needs immediate assistance and continued care." He dropped to his knees beside Jim, giving him the first of the meds to reverse his condition. Within seconds, Jim's body relaxed into slight tremors as the commander watched.

Simon rose from the floor. "Well, commander?"

The commander cleared his throat nervously. "You could use the infirmary here. The prisoner cannot be released from the base."

Simon scowled at the man, letting the full weight of his displeasure rest firmly on the commander's shoulders. "I have no idea if your facilities are even equipped for what I need. Mr. Bowden, as you are well aware, has suffered severe brain trauma in the past. I have painstakingly acquired the equipment needed to deal with his special needs. I can scarcely imagine your infirmary would be up to my standard."

Thoroughly cowed by Simon's superior demeanor, the commander shrunk visibly. "In that case, I will have to assemble a detail to escort the prisoner to your vessel."

"Then do so," Simon said, with all the haughtiness of the finest surgeon on Osiris.

Quickly calling together his guards, the commander complied.

XXXXXXXXXX

"They're comin'," Jayne said into his comm unit.

"I see 'em," Mal replied calmly from some distance away.

As Zoe, Simon, and a contingent of soldiers surrounding a stretcher walked past, Jayne fell into smooth step behind them. Thinking that it would have been much more convenient if Serenity had been berthed on the same level as the outpost, he scanned the crowds carefully for any sign of trouble. So far, so good, he thought.

Seeing Mal peel off the wall as the contingent passed him as well, Jayne was struck with a sudden worrisome thought. If there really was something wrong with the Captain, then there was a better than average chance that something could go seriously amiss in the next few….

No sooner than the thought popped into his head than an alarm reverberated through the crowded hall. Swiveling around quickly, Jayne cursed as he saw a large group of soldiers coming rapidly in their direction. Obviously something was wrong.

"Halt," the lead soldier called, shouting the order in the general direction of the entire crowd of people in the corridor.

Confused, some stopped in their tracks, while others pushed forward. In the sudden chaos, Jayne realized what must have happened. Someone had found the doctor's body. Cursing himself for not finding a way to go back and at least hide it properly, Jayne gritted his teeth.

Mal came to his side, his jaw tight. "Jim's not got time for us to stand in this hallway waiting for the hun dans to clear us," he murmured.

Jayne nodded grimly, fingering Vera longingly.

"I said, 'Halt'!," the lead soldier yelled, directing his comment to a group of tourists trying to push through the crowd toward the exit.

Unaware that the soldier was yelling at them specifically, the tourists paid no heed. The soldier fired a warning shot, which reverberated in the enclosed space and galvanized the crowd into a full-blown panic. Pushing and shoving past each other in a frenzy to escape the escalating situation, the Skyplex visitors swarmed down the corridor, running pell-mell in their haste to avoid the fray.

The soldiers, already on edge from their grim discovery of the doctor's corpse, fired into the crowd, dropping an unlucky few to the decking. Seeing other civilians fall, those in the crowd who were armed turned to fight, returning fire for fire. The contingent of soldiers guarding Jim's stretcher turned their attention to the crowd, trying to provide cover for the other soldiers as well as they could.

Seeing the opportunity open before them, Simon and Zoe quickly grabbed the stretcher, edging it toward the exit while Mal and Jayne turned to cover their movements. Bending low over Jim to protect him from stray bullets, Zoe counted the precious minutes ticking relentlessly away and sped her pace.

Almost at the exit of the corridor, Simon gave a startled gasp and slumped forward over the stretcher. Zoe realized with horror that he had been shot. She stopped, trying to pull his suddenly dead weight onto the stretcher, knowing she could not hope to carry him and push Jim to safety at the same time. Glancing up quickly, she saw that Mal and Jayne were making their way toward her through the swirling mass of people, not even stopping to take aim, but laying down a covering fire all the while.

"Zoe?" she heard behind her, coming from a small alcove off the corridor. She looked around quickly, and was startled to see Marcus Hazzard, his back pressed firmly against the wall.

Marcus quickly took in the situation and left his safe vantage point, grabbing Simon's shoulders and pulling him into the stretcher.

"We have to get to the third level," Zoe said. "Serenity's there."

Marcus shook his head. "You'll never make it. This level is almost completely closed off. No lifts working, no stairways open." Glancing quickly around, Marcus saw Mal and Jayne backing inch by precious inch toward them. Drawing in a sharp breath, he drew his own gun, dropping a soldier who had Mal in his sights. Mal turned quickly to see where the shot had originated.

"Think we might need a ride," he said, grinning at Marcus.

Marcus nodded. "Hit or Miss is on this level. We make it to the exit, we should be able to get there before they can lock all the berths down."

Nodding, Mal and Jayne closed the distance between them and helped Marcus clear the path to the exit. Zoe and Marcus on one side, Mal and Jayne on the other, they wheeled the stretcher quickly through the exit and toward the berth where the Hit or Miss waited. Running onto the ship, Marcus called the bridge. "Pierre, we locked in yet?"

"No," Pierre replied. "Mind telling me what the di yu is going on out there?"

"Soon's I know, you'll know," Marcus replied. "Murdocke back yet?"

"Ten minutes ago," Pierre replied.

"Then, take us out, now!" Marcus said. "And send for Elizabeth. We got wounded."

Feeling the satisfying rumble of the engine beneath his feet, Marcus turned to Mal. "What in the sphincter of hell is going on?"

Mal held up one hand, thumbing his comm unit. "River," he said.

"Yes?" River replied.

"Take Serenity up now."

"But, where are…?" she asked.

"Now, River," he said firmly. "We're with friends. We'll meet you when we can."

He thumbed the unit off, cutting off River's questions. Turning to Marcus, he smiled. "Good to see you."

Marcus snorted. "Ain't sure I can say the same, considering. What happened down there?"

"Long story," Mal replied. "And best told after Jim and Simon are seen to."

At just that moment, Elizabeth walked down the steps into the holding bay, her eyes widening as she took in the situation. "This way," she said, motioning them forward as she turned on her heel toward the infirmary.

Zoe walked rapidly beside her, filling her in on what she knew of Jim's condition. Elizabeth nodded, listening carefully. "I think I know what he must have used," she said. "But I'll need to be certain before I can give him anything to counteract it."

"We ain't got much time," Zoe said. "He's been down at least forty-five minutes, and Simon said we only had an hour window. He gave me a vial of the antidote, but it must have fallen out in the corridor somewhere. I can't find it."

Elizabeth nodded, snapping fully into doctor mode. Flipping on the infirmary lights, she indicated where each man should be laid. Looking at Marcus, she said, "Think you can see to Simon for a minute while I check Jim out?"

Marcus nodded and bent to his task, pulling Simon's shirt open to reveal an oozing hole slightly south of his right nipple. Glancing over at him, Elizabeth said, "Just stop the bleeding for now. I'll be there in a minute."

Marcus looked at Mal. "Second drawer on the right. Should be sterile pads and such."

Mal nodded and handed him the supplies, taking a place between Jim and Simon. Elizabeth worked in silence, quickly drawing a blood sample from Jim and checking it for the chemicals she thought Simon might have used. "Got it," she said quietly within minutes.

Turning quickly to her supply cabinet, she asked Zoe, "How much does Jim weigh?"

Zoe answered.

Elizabeth nodded, quickly preparing the proper dosage of the antidote. Injecting it directly into his jugular, she waited for a moment and checked his pulse. Swabbing the injection site with gauze, she turned to Zoe. "Hold this here," she said. As Zoe complied, Elizabeth quickly hooked Jim up to her diagnostic monitor. "Tell me if this number fluctuates more than a point or two in either direction," she said, pointing to a flashing red number on the monitor. Zoe nodded.

Elizabeth smiled quickly. "He's going to be all right, you know," she said, busily washing her hands.

"What about the doc?" Mal asked.

Marcus moved over to let Elizabeth look at the wound. "Still oozing," he said quietly.

She nodded. "I'll need a surgical tray," she said quietly. "Scrub in."

Turning to Mal, Marcus said, "Might be a good time to talk to Mrs. Reynolds. Tell her where you are and such. We're probably out of range for your pocket comm.. You can wave her from the bridge."

Mal nodded and stepped out of the infirmary, leaving his people behind.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	12. Chapter 12

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XI—Maximum Security**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal's ship arrives at its destination, and River has an epiphany.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal sat up quickly, setting his chains to rattling in his haste. He listened intently for any sounds coming from beyond his prison, but as usual, there was nothing to give him an indication as to where he was. One very significant thing had changed however. The ship was no longer moving.

Mal pondered this latest development and tried to estimate where he could possibly be based on how many days the ship had traveled. However, he knew that his calculations could be seriously off mark, as he had no way of knowing how long he'd been unconscious in the corridor on the Skyplex, nor how long he'd lain on the hard floor of his prison before awakening the first time. Added to the confusion was the suspicion that, though he had been given meals after a fashion, they had not come at any sort of regular intervals. So, in essence any calculation he made as to his whereabouts would be, at best, a wild guess.

The meals themselves told him something about who his captors were. Only the military would provide rations so utterly tasteless and yet life-sustaining, he thought wryly. And being as how the only military that he knew of that would have any interest in imprisoning him was the Alliance, he conjured that was who had him.

Having ascertained the who, Mal was now trying to figure out the why. So far, nothing was all that obvious, but it looked as if he might have plenty of time to work on the answer, he thought glumly. It seemed apparent to him that his abduction and Jim's recall into the military must be related in some way, but so far, he did not see a real connection between the two. He wondered what had happened at Jim's hearing, and he worried about what was happening to his crew. Try as he might, he could not seem to contact River. A time or two he had felt very close to breaking through to her, felt the slightest tingle in his mind that signaled her presence there, but it was gone as quickly as he'd become conscious of it, like a mist dissipating in the heat of a summer morning.

He had seen no one since he had awakened on the ship. His meals were shoved under the locked door through a small opening at its bottom and his chains did not allow him to get close enough to peer out of the opening.

As he contemplated the situation, he heard the tramp of boots outside the door and unconsciously tensed in readiness. The door opened abruptly, spilling light into his cell. Mal blinked rapidly several times, his eyes screaming protest at the sudden change. By the time he could focus properly, two guards in Alliance uniforms were standing directly in front of him, while a third bent down to unlock the chains at his hands and feet.

His task complete, the third guard said briskly, "Get up."

Mal sat looking at him intently. "Where am I?" he asked.

The second guard prodded him with the toe of one polished boot. "He said, 'Get up'."

"I heard what he said," Mal replied evenly. "And I will as soon as you tell me where I am."

An authoritative voice came from the doorway. "Mr. Reynolds, you are currently in the hold of a transport ship. However, that information will be outdated in a matter of minutes, as you are disembarking at this stop by the use of your own two feet or in a manner much less pleasant. Dong ma?"

Mal squinted to see who had spoken. Rising to his feet slowly, as the circulation in his legs was a mite sluggish, he saw that the man wore the insignia of a Captain. "Think I'll choose the two feet option," he said wryly. "Mind telling me where I'm headed?"

The Captain smiled thinly. "I'm afraid that's classified information, Mr. Reynolds."

As he spoke, the two guards nearest Mal re-cuffed his hands in front of him and took a place at either of his sides.

The Captain continued. "I have assigned my men the task of seeing you to your new destination. Should there be any trouble whatsoever, they have a standing order to shoot. Is that clear?"

"As crystal," Mal replied thinly as he felt the distinct press of a gun barrel at the small of his back.

"Excellent," the Captain said, stepping out into the corridor of the transport ship. Speaking to his men, he added, "Carry on."

Surrounded by the guards on three sides, Mal sighed and stepped forward, taking in every detail of his surroundings as they marched off the ship.

XXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth stretched carefully, straightening her protesting back. Having leaned over the surgical table for the last two hours over Simon, she was beginning to feel a little tired. Quickly suturing the last spot, she breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled her gloves and mask off. She turned around to face her audience.

Mal and Jayne stood side by side, both men leaning against one of the supply cabinets in various stages of concern. Zoe stood beside the second infirmary table, her arm resting lightly across Jim's shoulders. Jim's arm was wrapped around Zoe's waist, and he looked at Elizabeth with eyes that she could see were blessedly clear of confusion.

Thinking that it was a very good sign, she smiled brightly. "Simon's going to be all right. Fortunately, the bullet bypassed anything of major import, but it fragmented into tiny pieces on the way out. Took a little fishing to be sure he was lead-free, so to speak."

"Gorram Alliance hollow-pointed bullets," Jayne muttered.

Elizabeth nodded grimly. "It could have been much worse. At least there was an exit wound to go with the entry wound. The largest portion of the bullet stayed intact, most probably because it went through soft tissue and managed somehow not to encounter a bone." Idly checking one of the monitors to which Simon was attached, she continued, "He should be out for another hour or so. I'll be glad to call you when he's awake."

"You tellin' us to leave?" Mal asked, smiling.

"All of you except Jim," Elizabeth replied without batting an eye. When Jim frowned, she continued, "And you can go too after I have a quick look at you."

"Won't involve needles, will it?" Jim asked, grinning.

"Not unless you give me trouble," Elizabeth replied.

"All right, you heard the lady," Marcus said, herding Serenity's people out of the infirmary. "Now we've averted two crises, maybe it would be a good time for somebody to tell me what was going on at the Skyplex."

Mal fell into step beside Marcus. "Need to wave River first. Tell her that Simon's okay. And tell her where she can rendezvous with the Hit or Miss to get us back."

Marcus nodded. "Where were you headed after the Skyplex?"

Mal shrugged. "Nowhere in particular. But I conjure Serenity'll have the Alliance on her heels."

"I'm assuming that's part of the story," Marcus said dryly. "We were headed to Three Hills. Of course, that's a fair distance away, so we might want to meet somewhere else."

"First, let me find out if Serenity is being followed, and if River's all right," Mal replied.

"We'll be in the common area when you're ready," Marcus said, heading to round up his crew so that the story would only have to be told once. "You can use the Cortex link on the bridge. And send Pierre on down."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal realized immediately upon disembarking from the transport ship that his fortunes had taken a definite downward turn somewhere on the Skyplex. As the guards stopped at the locked gate, Mal surveyed the area quickly. As the sun was shining, he could not orient himself by the constellations, so he looked at the terrain beyond the high fence. Typically, it told him nothing, being as it was just another dusty, barren landscape like so many of the terraformed worlds.

But the fence told him plenty. Several feet taller than a normal man's height, it was topped with at least two feet of razor wire. And glinting in the sunlight was a system of thin silver wiring entwined throughout the fence that Mal knew was part of an electrical deterrence system. And if these things had not told him where he was, at least he knew what sort of place he was in. It was not his first encounter with an Alliance maximum security facility.

The gate swung open and Mal was prodded to step inside the fence and head toward the imposing building straight ahead. He looked carefully for any sign or lettering on the building that would give him a name of his location with the thought that if he could contact River somehow, it was a piece of information she would need to know. There was nothing.

Stopped by yet another gate, Mal stood in the slight breeze, thinking that he had best enjoy the daylight whilst he could. If past experience was anything by which to go, he might not be seeing it again for some time.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having forgotten to adjust one of the course settings when he put the ship on auto-pilot, Pierre made his way quickly back to the bridge to make the adjustment. He stopped just outside the door of the bridge, his instincts telling him that something peculiar was going on at his console. He heard Mal's voice. "Regardless of the slight change in plan, there should be no trouble getting back on track. The rendezvous with Serenity is already set."

Pierre frowned, wondering who Mal could possibly be talking to. There was a slight pause, during which he assumed the other person was speaking, though he could not make out anything that was said. Then Mal spoke again. "Of course. I will contact you again from Serenity once the problem is resolved." There was another slight pause. "I understand. It can be done easily enough without generating undue attention."

Something about the tone of Mal's voice made Pierre's hackles rise. There was a coldness there that he had never heard in the Captain's voice before, a kind of bloodlessness that seemed very different from the man he had become acquainted with. Not wanting his eavesdropping to be discovered, Pierre quietly turned away and headed back toward the common area. The course adjustment would have to wait.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What did Mal say?" Inara asked, her normally calm tone laced with anxiety.

"Simon is going to be all right. Jim is alert, and doing well. And we're to rendezvous with the Hit or Miss on Three Hills, assuming we can dodge Alliance cruisers until then," River answered, setting in the new course coordinates.

"Three Hills?" Inara exclaimed. "That's half the system away. I can't believe that Mal would want us to try to get that far with just you, me, Kaylee, and the children."

River looked up from the console, her large, brown eyes haunted. "He wouldn't," she said softly.

Inara's own eyes widened with alarm. "What do you mean, River?"

River drew a deep breath. "I…I don't think that the man that came back from the Skyplex is Mal."

Inara's hand gripped the arm of the co-pilot's chair tightly. "Then, who….?" she began.

River shook her head and wrapped her arms across her chest. "I don't know," she said. "But this I do know. Malcolm Reynolds would never even think of not getting back on Serenity as soon as possible if there was the slightest chance that the Alliance was searching for us."

Inara nodded in agreement. "But he looks like Mal, walks like Mal, talks like Mal." She paused. "You know him better than anyone, River. You know his thoughts. Surely if this man is…some kind of imposter, you would have known it immediately."

"I don't know how it is possible," River said slowly. "But, this…man has Mal's thoughts, his patterns. The first night he was on the ship, I reached out to his mind, saw Mal's thoughts, his memories, knew them to be his. But there was something else, something dark and shrouded that I could not penetrate."

"What did you do?" Inara asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"I went to Simon," River said. "Asked him to compare the blood samples he took from Mal after he came back from the Skyplex with older samples he had of him."

"And?" Inara asked.

River's brow wrinkled. "And they were identical."

Inara gasped. "But that's impossible, if what you say is true. Unless somehow he has been…brainwashed or…something."

River shivered. "Or cloned."

"They can't do that yet," Inara protested, though her voice lacked conviction. "I mean, there are no precedents for anything like that. The Alliance doesn't have the technology developed that well yet….do they?"

"How would we know if they had?" River asked hollowly.

The two women stared at each other for a long moment, both lost in the horror of what they were discussing.

"What are we going to do?" Inara whispered.

"Find my Mal," River replied firmly, though at the moment, she had no idea of how to get such a task accomplished.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	13. Chapter 13

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XII—Puzzle Pieces**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal fills Marcus in on what happened at the Skyplex, and Marcus ends up with more questions than answers.

XXXXXXXXXX

"A death sentence?" Marcus exclaimed, voicing what everyone else on his crew was thinking. "You've been sentenced to death for not re-joining the military?"

Jim nodded solemnly. "Found it passing strange myself, but that's the way it went down."

Murdocke scowled, thinking about his own stint in the military. "What worries me is why you'd be called back up in the first place. Doesn't sound quite right to me."

"S'what we thought too," Mal said, sipping from a steaming coffee mug. He looked at Marcus seriously. "Only reason I can think for calling back troops would be if they're mobilizing for a war."

Marcus' hand tightened on his own coffee mug. "I've heard talk, nothing concrete of course, just chatter in some of the places we've been. And there's no denying that there's a larger Alliance presence along the regular trade routes lately."

Pierre nodded. "But we thought it was in response to the rumors of a new resistance movement on some of the Rim worlds. Nothing more."

"Have you come across any of these people?" Mal asked casually.

"Not really," Marcus replied. "Though I expect the rumors are true enough. You and I both know that there are plenty of folks out there with a bone to pick with the Alliance."

Bear spoke. "But all that don't explain what went on at the Skyplex." He turned to Marcus. "Thought you said that they weren't specifically shooting at Mal and his folks. They were shooting wild into the crowd. Doesn't make sense."

Jayne spoke up. "That's 'cause we left out a part," he said, looking at Mal intently. "I reckon the soldiers were reactin' to finding their doctor with his throat slit."

Startled, Marcus looked at Mal, who returned his gaze calmly. "Might have been," he said easily. "We needed to get the Alliance doctor out of the way to get Jim outta there. When I cornered him, he put up a fight. Couldn't shoot him, on accounta' not wanting it to be heard. So, I had to use a knife."

Jayne frowned, not firmly convinced by that explanation from what he had seen. "Coulda' taken the extra time to hide him better," he mumbled.

Mal's eyes flashed with cold anger. "Next time we need to kill an Alliance doctor, I'll be sure to let you handle it then."

When everyone at the table looked at him strangely, he added, "Didn't think he'd be discovered in that little alcove until we were gone. Whole operation took a mite longer than I expected."

Marcus nodded, though he took note of both Jayne's expression and Zoe's lack of one. Filing that away for future contemplation, he said, "Well, whatever the reason for the fiasco at the Skyplex, I think it's safe to say the Alliance will be coming after Serenity, and possibly us if anyone saw you board the Hit or Miss. Best we meet up with Mrs. Reynolds sooner rather than later, to my way of thinking."

"She's seen no evidence of a tail," Mal replied. Seeing Marcus' expression, he added, "Though I think it's a fine idea to get back to my own ship soon's we can. Pick a spot, and I'll wave River again."

"Pierre and River can suss it out, I imagine," Marcus said easily.

Pierre nodded. "I need to get back to the bridge anyway." Pushing his chair back, he left the room.

"If that's it, I got some tinkering to do on the engines," Murdocke said.

"Guess that's all for now," Marcus replied. "Bear, see to getting these folks settled, if you would."

Bear nodded and headed toward the cabins with Jim, Zoe, and Jayne in tow.

"Thought I'd go back down and check on Simon," Mal said, pushing his chair back.

Marcus nodded and watched his friend walk away, thinking that something was not quite right.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pierre looked at the transmission log and frowned beneath his mask. Just as he had overheard, Mal had apparently made two waves while on the bridge. The first address was easily recognizable, being Serenity's. However, the second transmission was coded, and Pierre could not recognize the code. Thinking that very odd indeed, he punched in a sequence of numbers, beginning a program that he'd used before to decipher code.

Marcus walked onto the bridge. "D'you talk to Mrs. Reynolds?"

"I did," Pierre said. "She says there's still no sign of an Alliance tail, but she is understandably concerned. Flying under the radar as best she can."

"Did the two of you figure a new rendezvous point?"

"Yes," Pierre replied, though he was more intent on his console than on his Captain at the moment.

"Mind tellin' me where?" Marcus asked dryly.

"Remember that asteroid field just off Ita?" Pierre asked.

Marcus nodded.

"Figured that would be a good place," Pierre said. "It's not too far, and not on the established trade routes. Be easy enough to spot an Alliance presence in that quadrant."

"Good," Marcus said, glancing down at the console to see what Pierre was staring at so intently. "Something going on I should know about?"

Pierre shrugged. "Not sure. It's probably nothing, but…"

Having learned by bitter experience never to disregard Pierre's 'probably nothings', Marcus said, "Tell me."

Pierre cleared his throat. "Well, when Captain Reynolds was up here to use the Cortex, I happened to overhear a little bit of his transmission."

"And?" Marcus asked, somehow dreading what Pierre was about to say.

"And he wasn't talking to Mrs. Reynolds. According to the log, he made two transmissions, the first to Serenity and the second somewhere else."

"Where?" Marcus asked, looking down at the log.

"Don't know yet," Pierre said. "But what he was saying, well, it didn't sound like Captain Reynolds somehow. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something wrong."

Marcus sighed. "Funny, but that's what I've been thinking too. Somethin's off with him. That whole little exchange between him and Jayne about the Alliance doctor for instance. Didn't seem like something Mal would have done, and I could tell that Jayne thought the same thing."

Pierre nodded grimly. "And Zoe looks tight as a bowstring when she looks at him. 'D'you notice?"

"Yeah," Marcus said solemnly. "I did. So, are you gonna be able to break the code?"

"I'll let you know something as soon as I know," Pierre said.

Marcus nodded. "In that case, I'm going to bed. Looks like tomorrow I may need to have my wits about me."

Pierre barely acknowledged the statement as he bent back over the console, watching the program try to decipher the unknown code.

XXXXXXXXXX

"How long was he out?" Jim asked, looking at Zoe in surprise.

"Don't rightly know, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours, according to River. But he hasn't been acting right ever since."

"But Jayne is the same, isn't he?" Jim asked. "I mean, I know I was gone for some of that time, but Jayne acts just like Jayne."

Zoe nodded. "He does at that," she said. "But don't you notice anything strange about the Captain?"

Jim rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. "I suppose I just attributed it to all the chaos on the Skyplex," he admitted. "I mean, that's the first time I really saw him after I was arrested."

"Well, I can tell you something is wrong," Zoe insisted.

"Oh, I believe you. You know him better than I do, after all," Jim said, pulling her close. "Why don't you talk to him tomorrow, see what's what?'

Zoe sighed. "Guess that's what I'll do, though I don't rightly know how to ask him."

"How about, 'You're acting weird, Captain, and I need to know if we're going to have to shoot you'?" Jim suggested, trying to ease some of the tension out of Zoe's shoulders.

"Yeah, that'll work," Zoe said blandly, rolling her eyes while still melting into Jim's embrace. Thinking that at least he was there in her arms instead of hanging from an Alliance rope, she allowed herself to relax for just a bit.

XXXXXXXXXX

River closed her eyes, focusing her considerable mental ability on finding a trace of her husband's presence somewhere in her head. Having left Inara at the helm, she had time to concentrate more fully on the task and she emptied her mind of every distraction as best she could. She lay quietly for a long time, listening and reaching out, straining to hear. But there was only silence, and she realized that it was quite possible that Mal was far enough away that she could not reach him. Frustrated, she swung her legs out of bed, and pulled a dress quickly over her head. Perhaps Adam could find him, she thought, though she hated to burden the child with her suspicions.

But Adam had found him before, when she could not, she reasoned. And perhaps she could simply ask her baby boy to reach out to his father without explaining the why of it. Thinking wryly that he was more than a little likely to question her request, she sighed. Perhaps she should wait until the morning, she decided. Walking the ship, she trailed her hands along Serenity's walls as she often did. But there was no comfort in the communion. Serenity without her Captain was an empty shell.

XXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth slipped into the Captain's quarters and quietly shed her clothes, assuming that Marcus was asleep. She slipped into the bed, careful not to disturb him. Curling onto her side, she pulled the covers up gently.

"He all right?" Marcus asked, startling her.

"Simon is doing well," she said. "He woke up a while ago, and in typical Simon fashion demanded a run-down of everything I did for him and for Jim."

Marcus chuckled, pulling her to him, her back pressed against his chest. She wriggled happily. "Sounds like you did all right, then," he murmured against her ear.

"Hope you don't mind, but I set the comm system so he could call if he needs anything during the night," Elizabeth said, yawning.

"Don't mind in the slightest, long as it doesn't transmit both ways," Marcus replied, his hand stroking her soft skin possessively. "Wouldn't want to keep the good doctor awake."

Elizabeth shivered with his touch, amazed as always by how responsive her body was to him. "What about keeping this good doctor awake?" she asked, her smile evident in her tone.

"Wouldn't dream of it, if you're ready to sleep," Marcus replied, his hand stilling.

"I could stay up for a little while," Elizabeth replied softly. As Marcus' hand resumed its tantalizing motion, she said, "Did you find out what happened on the Skyplex?"

"Some of it," Marcus replied.

Hearing the strange note in his voice, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Marcus sighed. "Bad as I hate to say it, I think Mal's hiding something."

"That doesn't sound like him," she said. "I thought you two were good friends."

"Even friends have got secrets, I suppose," Marcus said. "But it makes me uneasy, nonetheless."

Elizabeth turned to look into his troubled eyes. "So, you're going to get to the bottom of it tomorrow, right?"

"With a little luck," Marcus said dryly. Seeing her slight frown, he said, "But I could probably use some distraction tonight." He grinned.

Elizabeth smiled prettily. "Well now, I suppose that all depends," she replied, returning his grin.

"On what?" he asked, pulling her closer still.

"On whether or not you found that chocolate before all the shooting started," she whispered into his ear seductively.

Letting her go only long enough to reach the bedside table, he retrieved the chocolate bar from the drawer and handed it to her. "You mean this chocolate?" he asked, nuzzling against her neck.

Elizabeth sighed in contentment. Turning the confection over in her hands, she smiled. "Wanna share?" she asked.

"Um hmm," he said, his voice little more than a low growl.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	14. Chapter 14

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XIII—War Counsel**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Marcus has a talk with Mal, and Adam tries to reach out to his father.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus walked onto the bridge of the Hit or Miss to relieve Pierre. "Any luck with deciphering the transmission?" he asked hopefully.

Pierre stretched and stood, relinquishing the pilot's chair to his Captain. "Not so far," he said tiredly. "I don't think the program is sophisticated enough to handle this one. It's been running all night, and it keeps coming up with exactly nothing."

Marcus sighed. "Thanks for trying, anyway. Might be we need to get Murdocke on it. Sometimes he can find a window, if not a doorway."

Pierre nodded. "S'what I was thinking."

Marcus smiled. "Anything else I need to know before you go?"

"Nothing," Pierre said. "Everything's been quiet. Spent the night waiting for an Alliance cruiser to show up, but so far, we're clear."

"Well, at least there's that," Marcus said, folding his long frame into the seat. "Sleep well."

"I intend to," Pierre said, heading out the door.

Marcus stared out into the Black, thinking it a minor miracle that it was currently devoid of Alliance ships. He'd watched the news on the Cortex before coming to the bridge, and the reports coming from the Skyplex were vague at best. Apparently the government had managed to manipulate the media yet again, and the story said next to nothing about the shooting of innocent civilians on the Skyplex. There had been the briefest mention of the slain doctor, but surprisingly, there was no mention at all of Jim's escape. Marcus could only assume that the Alliance had no wish to explain what Jim was doing in their cell in the first place. Taken together, the omissions in the report were far more troubling to Marcus than what the report had actually said.

Hearing a footfall behind him, he looked around to see Mal standing in the doorway. "Permission to come in?" Mal asked, smiling.

"Come ahead," Marcus said, indicating the co-pilot's chair.

"Any news from River this morning?" Mal asked, settling down with a sigh.

"None so far," Marcus replied. "Would have thought you'd have been in touch with her already this morning."

Mal looked out at the Black for a long moment. "I conjure we need to keep communication down to a minimum. Assuming that nobody saw us board this ship, it won't be a good thing for the Alliance to intercept any waves between ships. Would bring the hounds baying, I expect."

Marcus nodded. "True enough, I suppose. But there has been no sign that we're being followed, at least not yet." He paused for a moment, not sure how to broach the subject on his mind. "Mal, is there something you're not telling me, something that maybe I need to know?" He looked intently at the older man, willing him to answer plainly.

Mal cocked one eyebrow and smiled winningly. "Why do you ask?"

Marcus sighed, disappointed with his answer. "You seem….distracted. Not quite yourself. And it's fair obvious to me that your crew is a little worried as well."

Mal sighed. "Guess I've got a lot on my mind," he admitted. "I mean, think about it, Marcus. How likely is it that me and mine are ever gonna have another moment's peace, now that Jim's a fugitive? Zoe's been with me a gorram long time, and I'll be damned if I'll turn them out to fend off the wolves by themselves." He paused, looking out the transparency. "And even if I did, do you think that the Alliance would ever believe that I didn't know where they are?"

Marcus took a sip of coffee from the mug he'd placed on the console, trying to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. "So, what are you gonna do?"

Mal leaned forward, staring intently into the younger Captain's eyes. "I'm gonna quit running," he said. "Gonna see to it that my children don't have to hide from their government, don't have to cower on Rim worlds all their lives."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Marcus asked.

Mal drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "With your help, I hope," he said. "That's why I came to find you this morning, truth be told."

"What is it you want me to do?" Marcus asked curiously.

"I want you to help me find the new Independents," Mal said.

Marcus sat back in his chair, taken aback by the bold statement. "Are you sure there even are 'new Independents'?" he asked.

"You said yourself you'd heard rumors," Mal replied evenly. "And every Rim world Serenity's been on in the past year has been seething with the possibility. And some one somewhere is orchestrating the so-called 'terrorist attacks' on Alliance facilities."

Marcus looked at him sharply. "You're certain of that?" he asked. "Because I haven't seen any evidence of it other than some sketchy reports on the Cortex."

"I'm certain enough," Mal replied grimly. "I have a contact or two that confirmed some things for me."

"Is that who you were talking to on the bridge yesterday after you talked to River?" Marcus asked, watching intently for Mal's reaction.

For just a moment, something ugly flickered behind Mal's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Didn't know I had an audience," he said, his voice a little tight.

"Answer the question, Mal. Is that who you were talking to?" Marcus pressed.

"Yes," Mal said reluctantly. "I didn't want to get you involved with this particular contact, or I would have told you earlier. He's not the most….trusting of folks. Doesn't like to leave loose ends. It's taken me a gorram long time to gain his trust enough to get any useful information from him. But he's valuable to me."

"Then why do you need me?" Marcus asked reasonably.

"Because you're somebody I can trust," Mal replied without hesitation. "Someone who will tell me up front what I need to know. And you travel the Rim worlds, have your own contacts. You're bound to be able to come up with some information that would be useful."

"Useful, huh?" Marcus said. "You mean to start a war, don't you?"

"I mean to end one," Mal said firmly. "You and I both know the Alliance is never gonna rest until all the worlds spinning are firmly under their heels. I've been trying to ignore it ever since Serenity Valley, but I tell you now, I'm done ignoring it. There are folks out there, Marcus, folks like you and me. Folks that would take up arms and fight for their freedom, if they had a leadership to turn to."

"And you intend to be that leader?" Marcus asked, his throat dry and his pulse hammering at his temples.

"If that's what it takes," Mal replied, holding his gaze.

"What about your family?" Marcus asked. "What are going to do with them whilst you go off to fight this hypothetical war?"

"They're coming with me," Mal said, a hint of asperity in his voice. "Can you think of a safe place for them, once things get underway? Anywhere I leave them, they'll be vulnerable. And don't think for a moment that the Alliance wouldn't use them to get to me."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," Marcus replied, thinking privately that the man to whom he was talking sounded a galaxy away from the friend he knew. "Just can't imagine how you can hope to win a fight against the Alliance, dragging your family along."

"We can win," Mal said, leaning forward in his chair with enthusiasm. "We can. With the right information, we can gather an army. And we can join forces with these folks who are throwing stones at the Alliance now, and turn random acts of sabotage and rebellion into a systematic, sustained attack on a regime that needs to go, and go now. Dong ma?"

Marcus looked at Mal for a long moment, silent. "Can't say the thought of having a shot at the Alliance isn't tempting," he said softly. "You know as well as I do what they've done to me and mine. But this isn't something to be entered into lightly, Mal. Could be the end of everything, and it's a sure bet that you'll lose at least something that you can't afford to lose even if you succeed. I think you need to think about it long and hard before you go forward."

"I'm done thinking about it," Mal replied flatly. "Thinking about it ain't keeping my people safe. Just look at what almost happened to Jim. And then there's Simon lying in there in your infirmary. And what about my wife? You think for a minute that she could walk into an Alliance facility without fear of being a guinea pig for their experiments again? And Adam. If they knew about Adam, really knew what he can do, there's nowhere in the 'verse he'd be safe. So, I'm done thinking. I intend to act. Question is, are you with me?"

"Mal," Marcus said, sighing heavily. "You really expect me to give you an answer right this minute?"

Mal smiled thinly. "Was hoping that you would," he said, letting his disappointment show. "Was hoping that you could see the necessity of it. But," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I can understand needing some time to think about it. None of your people have been targeted yet. And after all, it ain't a game we'd be playing, and the stakes are undeniably high."

Marcus nodded. "Best I can tell you is that I'll think about it, Mal."

Mal inclined his head and stood to leave. "Just don't think about it too long, Marcus. You'd be a tremendous asset to me, but if you can't see your way clear to get involved, know this. I will be going through with this plan with or without your help. And one way or another, you will have to choose which side you're on, when the time comes."

With those dire words, Mal walked quietly off the bridge, leaving Marcus to stare after him, lost in tumultuous thought.

XXXXXXXXXX

Commander Liang of the Alliance cruiser Cortes sat at his desk reviewing the priority communiqué that had just come through. He sat for a moment, contemplating the unusual nature of his mission. Answering directly to the Chairman of the Senate Oversight Committee was unusual in itself, and the orders he had just received were somewhat baffling. Opening a secure channel to the Senator, he sat a little straighter in his chair when Michaels appeared on the screen.

"I take it you received my communiqué," Michaels began without preamble.

"I did," Liang answered. "Though I am somewhat confused by your orders."

Michaels scowled impatiently. "What don't you understand?" he asked shortly.

Liang decided that he would be ill-advised to press the issue too far. "If we have the location of the two vessels, why not simply apprehend them and bring an end to this?"

Michaels' frown deepened. "Are you questioning a direct order from the Oversight Committee, Commander?"

"No," Liang said quickly, though truthfully he supposed he had been doing just that. "I just wish to be clear on my assignment."

"Then let me clear it up for you," Michaels sneered. "For reasons that you need not know to do your job effectively, these vessels need to be left intact. However, it is imperative that they know that the Alliance is well aware of where they are, and what they are doing. To that end, you are to follow them at a discreet distance, allowing them to become aware of your presence gradually. Then, you are to fire across their bows, indicating that they are to surrender immediately and be boarded. However, stay far enough back that they will see the possibility of outrunning your guns. And when they bolt, as they inevitably will, let them go and shadow them, occasionally allowing them to see you. At no time, however, should you actually board these vessels or fire directly on them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," Liang replied crisply. Though he could not imagine what the purpose of such an exercise would be, he knew enough to follow his orders without further question.

"Good," Michael said, allowing himself a small, thin smile. "The coordinates will be sent to you shortly. And Commander, do not screw this up. Dong ma?"

"Yes sir," Liang said as he watched the screen fade to black.

XXXXXXXXXX

River sat on the edge of Adam's bed cross-legged. "I want you to try to do something for me, baby mine," she said softly, watching him scrub the sleep from his eyes with his fists. His hair stuck up at odd angles, so much like his father's that River's heart ached with the sight of it.

"What is it, Mama?" he asked, yawning and stretching in his little flannel pajamas.

"I want you to try to find your Daddy," River replied, careful to keep her thoughts under firm check, knowing as she did that he would instinctively reach into her mind for answers.

"Why?" he asked, scrunching up his face. "I thought he was with Mr. Marcus. Why can't we just wave him?"

River smiled in what she hoped was a convincing manner. "I just want to see if you can talk to him in another way."

"Like a test, you mean?" Adam said, warming to the idea. "'Cause I've been working on my control, just like you said to do."

"I'm sure you have," River said encouragingly. "And now I want to see it in action. Try to find Daddy, and describe what you see."

Adam nodded and became very still, concentrating on what was going on inside his head and filtering out external things. River watched him closely, her own mind seeking out his with the lightest of touches, eavesdropping on his efforts. They sat for a long time, transfixed by the effort of reaching out to Mal. Finally, Adam shuddered and his eyes popped open.

River looked at him in concern. "What did you see?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Adam frowned. "It was all fuzzy, like when you first get up in the morning and your eyes are stuck together with goo. Couldn't make out a lot, but…."

"But what?" River prodded gently.

"Mama, I don't think Daddy is with Mr. Marcus, 'less they're not on Mr. Marcus' ship."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, her heart hammering wildly.

"'Cause it's all grey where Daddy is," Adam replied. "And he's wearing a funny kinda' clothes. All one piece, kinda' like Miss Kaylee's coveralls, but with a number on the pocket. And he's alone. Mr. Marcus isn't there."

River concentrated on drawing breath normally. "Could you see the number on his pocket?" she asked.

Adam shook his head. "Too fuzzy," he said. Looking up into her eyes, he continued, "Did I do all right, Mama?"

River enfolded him in her arms. "You did just fine, Adam," she said, kissing his forehead tenderly.

Adam smiled and snuggled closer to his mother. "Then, can I eat breakfast now?" he asked, suddenly ravenously hungry as growing boys usually are.

"Of course," River said, reluctantly letting him go. "I'll be along in a minute."

As Adam hopped from the bed and headed toward the galley, River processed the information grimly, wondering what there was in what Adam had seen that she could possibly use to pinpoint her husband's location.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	15. Chapter 15

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XIV—Homecoming**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Alliance cruiser shows up, and Serenity's crew comes home.

XXXXXXXXXX

River gripped the yoke with white-knuckled fingers. Inara stood behind her, staring out at the horrific sight with fear-widened eyes. An Alliance cruiser sat firmly in their path, bristling with weaponry and all too capable of using it. Three shots had been fired across Serenity's bow already, and the Commander of the vessel had made his second dire announcement about their options.

"What are we going to do?" Inara asked, her fingers kneading the back of River's chair nervously.

"Tell Kaylee to strap the children and herself in," River answered, her voice unnaturally calm. "And hold on to something yourself."

Inara quickly thumbed the comm system and made the announcement. Then, strapping herself into the co-pilot's chair, she licked her lips nervously in anticipation.

River's fingers flexed on the controls, her senses heightened to everything around her and her mind calculating variables faster than should be humanly possible. When Kaylee's voice filtered back on to the bridge, confirming that the children were secured, River said quietly, "Hold on."

Serenity leapt forward into the asteroid belt that orbited Ita with dizzying speed. Inara closed her eyes for a moment to stop the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her. The spin continued, and she pried her eyes open to see River at the controls, the muscles of her arms trembling with the effort to level out the spin of the ship while avoiding the asteroids hurtling all about them in the belt.

River, acutely attuned to Serenity, felt the strain of the engines ease as she adjusted for the spin. For several minutes, there was total silence on the bridge as she maneuvered through the obstacle course of the asteroids, managing for the most part to avoid them entirely, though a few glanced off Serenity's hull harmlessly enough.

Checking her sensors once she reached the other side of the belt, she allowed her arms and hands to relax their grip on the yoke. "We're clear," she said.

"And the cruiser didn't follow?" Inara asked, finding her voice at last.

"Too large to navigate through the field," River replied. "It looks as if they've pulled back."

Both women jumped when the comm buzzed to life. "You okay, bao bei?" Mal's worried voice filled the bridge.

"We're all right," River replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Where are you?"

"Just barely in range of the asteroid field now," Mal replied. "We got here in time to see the cruiser fire across your bow. You sure everybody's okay?"

"We're shiny," River replied, glancing at Inara with a frown. "Do you see the cruiser now?'

There was a pause, and Marcus' voice replied, "When you went into the asteroid belt, the cruiser veered away. Guess they figured they couldn't follow you there." He paused for a moment. "Problem is, we can't follow you there either. The Hit or Miss is too large a target for surfing through asteroids. And it's fair obvious the cruiser will be back."

River's fingers flew over the console and in a moment she said, "There's a small moon close by, on the other side of Ita. It's not terraformed yet, but we could use it to hide the ships until we could dock with each other."

There was a pause on the other end, and Pierre replied, "I see the one you're talking about. How long do you think it will take you to get there?"

"We can be there in a half hour, if we push it," River replied.

"We'll see you there," Pierre said.

River quickly input the coordinates and headed toward their new destination. Inara looked at her with troubled eyes. "What are we going to do when we meet them?" she asked. "I mean, about Mal?"

River shuddered before she could stop the reaction. "We're going to get our people back and then find out what this Mal is trying to do. He may be our only link to our Mal."

Inara swallowed thickly and nodded silently. Unfortunately, she though, there was nothing else to be said.

XXXXXXXXXX

"The cruiser's back," Pierre said.

Marcus stood over his shoulder, looking at the sensors. "Are they following?"

"Doesn't look like it," Pierre replied. "But if we can see them, it stands to reason that they can see us."

Marcus frowned. "Then why aren't they moving forward?"

"Beats me," Pierre replied.

Marcus sighed. "Speed up. Watch them. If they speed up too, let me know. The sooner we can get Mal and his people back home and get out of this system, the better."

"Agreed," Pierre said mildly. "Wasn't planning on being pulled into a fight with an Alliance cruiser today."

"You don't know the half of it," Marcus replied wryly, thinking about his earlier conversation with Mal.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airlocks of the two ships sealed with a satisfying hiss, and Kaylee stepped forward eagerly to run to the side of Simon's stretcher. Simon smiled up at her a little too feebly for her liking, but she smiled sunnily nonetheless. "Looks like you ran into Elizabeth just in time," she said softly.

"It would seem so," Simon said, glancing sideways to find Elizabeth standing close by.

The doctor came forward, giving Kaylee a hug as both a greeting and encouragement. "He's going to be fine. Just a few more days of bed rest and regular changing of the dressing, and he'll be back to himself in no time."

Kaylee studied her husband's face intently. "You in pain, honey?" she asked.

"Not too much," Simon lied, shooting a warning look at Elizabeth. Knowing that it was more than a little likely that he would become addicted to any pain meds beyond the mildest of what Elizabeth had in her supply, he had refused any others. Elizabeth had reluctantly respected his wishes, though seeing him in pain when she could have easily prevented it twisted at her heart. Still, Simon knew himself better than she, so she had allowed him to choose.

Mal stepped forward into Serenity's cargo bay with the satisfied air of a man coming home. River, forcing her feet to propel her forward, embraced him. Knowing that she could not allow this man to guess that she had surmised he was not her husband if she wanted to gain information from him, she smiled up at him.

Adam, too, instructed by his mother to mention nothing about seeing his father somewhere other than the Hit or Miss, came forward, though he was not able to quite conceal his reluctance. Mal bent down to embrace him, and Adam, shooting a quick look at his mother, saw her nod her encouragement. "Hey there, little fella," Mal said heartily. "Did you miss me?"

Adam nodded, and Mal ruffled his hair affectionately. Adam pulled away and ran to River, wrapping his arm around her leg. Marcus watched the reunion with a vague sense of unease, wondering why Mrs. Reynolds and Adam seemed so stiff in Mal's presence. Thinking that perhaps the oddness Mal had been exhibiting on the Hit or Miss had actually started before the events on the Skyplex, Marcus decided that it was really none of his business. But it bothered him nonetheless.

Mal turned to catch his watchful eye. "Thank you for gettin' us back in one piece," he said, extending his hand. "It was a real kindness."

Marcus shook his hand and smiled politely. "No trouble," he said. "Though I conjure it's best for us to move along now. Got that job waiting on Three Hills and an Alliance cruiser out there that's sure to make an appearance any time."

Mal nodded, walking Marcus and Elizabeth back toward the airlock as the others headed further into Serenity. "Want you to think on what we talked about," he said, looking seriously at the younger man. "I could really use your help. Can't think of anyone else I'd rather be at my side for this thing."

Marcus swallowed uncomfortably. "As I said, I'll think about it, Mal. But if I do this, it'll affect more than just me. I need to talk it over with the crew, feel them out. It will be asking a helluva lot from them, to my way of thinking."

Mal nodded solemnly. "That it will," he acknowledged. "But it's the right thing to do, for the safety of all of us. You let me know soon's you decide."

"I will," Marcus replied, his heart heavy with the burden of it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal stared out the tiny window of his cell into the prison yard below him. He could scarcely make out the shapes of men moving about in the enclosure and knew that they could not see him on the seventh floor of the facility. As far as he was aware, he had the seventh floor to himself. There were no whispers in the night, no sound of feet shuffling in the corridors, none of the usual noise that humans made as they went about their lives.

Why he should be so isolated in what was apparently a fully operational maximum security Alliance prison was beyond him. Truth be told, he was still puzzling on why he was there at all. He'd been processed in near total silence by a stony-faced guard who either had a serious hearing problem or a severe lack of inclination to share pertinent information. Though he'd asked at first politely and then at the top of his lungs, no one had given him any answer as to why he was there. One scrap of information had surfaced, due to his ability to read paperwork upside down. The order for his imprisonment had been signed by a member of Parliament, a senator by the name of Michaels. The name meant nothing to him, but the Parliamentary seal on the document had looked official.

Watching the men in the yard, he yearned to be with them, if only to hear a voice other than the one in his head. The weather was sunny, and he could just barely feel the warmth of it on his face through the tiny window. Imagining how it would feel to walk around in the sun with other people, he closed his eyes. Sooner or later, he knew that he would find out why he was imprisoned, but the waiting was beginning to grate on his nerves. Every time his cell door opened, he tensed, assuming from bitter experience that something unpleasant was about to happen. At this point, he would almost welcome a beating, if it came with questions that would give him any answers of his own. Thinking that it was a poor day in hell when he almost looked forward to an Alliance interrogation, he sank down onto the floor and tried to pull his thoughts out of the darkness into which he was falling.

Leaning his head against the cool stone of the wall, he narrowed his thoughts down to one thing. It was time again to focus on reaching out to River.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pierre programmed in the coordinates for Three Hills and set the auto-pilot. He was tired, having evaded the Alliance cruiser for the better part of three hours before finally losing them a short time ago. But he knew his day was nowhere close to done, as Marcus had called for a meeting in the common area with the entire crew.

Stopping by his cabin only long enough to salve his face and change the bandages beneath his mask, he made his way to the common area, where Marcus was waiting somewhat impatiently to begin.

"No sign of the Cortes?" Marcus asked as Pierre sank into a chair.

"Not for the past hour," Pierre said. ""Ship's on auto-pilot, and I've rigged the long range sensors to let us know if they show up again."

Murdocke shifted irritably in his seat. "So what's the emergency?" he asked. "'Cause I got stuff to do."

Marcus' glare stopped any further words. "Like for instance figuring out the code from that transmission," he said darkly.

Murdocke grimaced. "Yeah, well, there's that. Been working on it for awhile. It's a tough one, no two ways around it. But I'll get it eventually."

"Unless we're about to drop out of the sky, I'd appreciate it if you'd make that your priority," Marcus said.

Murdocke nodded. "No problem. But why?'

Marcus drew a deep breath, looking at the puzzled expressions of his entire crew. "That's why we're here," he began. And then he told them, with as much detail as he could, that Malcolm Reynolds intended to start a war.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	16. Chapter 16

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XV—Double Jeopardy**

Author: just-slummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal tells his crew his plans, and Marcus does the job on Three Hills.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having shooed the children into the common area with Anya to supervise, the adults on Serenity sat around the galley table. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the horrible suspicions of each crew member coloring their reaction to Mal's words.

Finally, Jim spoke. "Don't know that I like the idea of being the catalyst for a war, Mal."

"If it hadn't been you, it could have just as easily been anyone else. River, Adam, anybody," Mal replied evenly. "But the fact is that the Alliance is mobilizing for a war. Why else would they re-activate old soldiers? Why else would they increase their presence along the established trade routes? We've been hearing rumors for months, and I was inclined to ignore them. But…" He paused, meeting Jim's troubled eyes directly. "With an execution order hanging over the head of one of my crew, the time for ignoring them is past."

"Just what is it you think we can accomplish?" Zoe asked, her tone deceptively calm. "What's changed that gives us any advantage?"

Mal leaned forward intently. "The Rim worlds are ready," he replied. "Practically seething with the idea of rising up again. And somewhere, there's a group of so-called terrorists that have been hitting Alliance facilities. Whoever these folks are, they're serious. What is lacking is leadership, a leader that can organize a systematic and targeted attack on the enemy, and sustain it until the Alliance crumbles."

Simon, who was scarcely well enough to even sit at the table, looked up at Mal with a puzzled expression. "But how could you assume the Alliance will crumble?" he asked quietly. "They obviously have more weapons, more battle cruisers, more…everything than a ragtag group of rebels."

"Maybehaps not," Mal replied. "If they're not vulnerable in some way, why resort to calling folks like Jim back up for military service? As to numbers, I think it's likely that there are enough people disgruntled with the status quo that if a battle cry went out, they'd practically come out of the woodwork."

"You're willin' to bet your life on that?" Jayne asked, watching Mal through narrowed eyes.

Mal's expression hardened into one that they had not seen since Miranda. "I don't see but two options. We run, or we stand and fight. And I, for one, ain't plannin' on runnin' again."

There was silence at the table for long minutes as the import of what Mal had proposed sank in. Finally, River spoke. "So just how are we going to do this?" she asked tightly.

Mal sat back in his chair, relieved that they seemed to be following his lead. "First, I'm gonna get in touch with some people as could help us. I've already talked to Marcus, and I'm sure he'll come along after he's thought it through. And then there's Monty, and Renshaw, and a few others who we know we can trust." Stopping as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added, "And the Operative. He might even know how to get us in touch with the terrorist group. And of course, the Underground Movement. There's no end to what they might be able to provide as far as intelligence and equipment."

"And when we get in touch with all these folk, what are you going to tell them?" Zoe pressed.

"That we're ready to fight, and we'd appreciate any help they can provide."

"And you think they'll just follow you straight into battle?" Jayne asked skeptically.

Mal allowed himself a small, tight smile. "Not straight into battle, but at least into a meeting to discuss it. Any army needs to be organized, and these people I've mentioned, well, they'll be a helluva group to get us started."

River tamped down the voices practically screaming in her head and looked at her husband with apparent calm. "What about the children?"

Mal paused, a faint frown at his brow. "Marcus asked the same thing. I told him I can't think of a safe place for them to be. War comes, there won't be a safe place in the 'verse, far as I can imagine."

"But we can't just…take 'em with us, if'n there's gonna be some kind of….war," Kaylee said haltingly.

Mal appeared to ponder her words for a moment. "Could ask your folks to keep them for awhile. Harvest ain't exactly in the thick of things, after all."

River's mouth went dry at the thought of the children stranded on Harvest. But, she said nothing, needing to see how the situation was going to play out.

Kaylee nodded. "My folk'd look after 'em like they were their own," she said, slightly mollified despite her major misgivings about the direction her Captain seemed to be headed.

Mal nodded. "Then it's settled. We'll wave the Fryes and get the children to safety. Then, we'll see to arranging a place to gather everybody we know who's sympathetic to the cause. Any questions?"

The crew looked at him numbly, still trying to come to grips with the sheer audacity of what he was proposing.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara cornered River in the corridor outside the galley after carefully making certain that there were no prying ears about. "We can't just let him do this," she whispered. "Whatever he's planning, it can't be good."

River looked at her miserably. "We need time, time to find out what they've done with Mal."

"Are you even certain that Mal is…alive?" Inara asked, though saying the words pained her almost more than she could bear.

"He's alive," River replied firmly. "Adam saw him…somewhere. Not sure where, but most likely in some kind of prison, from the description he gave. This…thing that is here with us….we just have to act normally until we can find out what we need to know."

Inara's heart hammered uncomfortably against her rib cage at the thought of trying to act normally as the impostor led them into war. "What if we don't have time to find out anything before he….starts a war?" she whispered.

River shivered, but looked at Inara with far more confidence than she felt. "We'll stop him, before it gets that far. And we'll find Mal. Dong ma?"

Inara swallowed thickly, using her years of Companion training to rein in her tumultuous thoughts. Nodding silently, she moved out of the corridor toward her shuttle as River headed to talk to Zoe.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal glanced up as River entered the bridge, giving her a smile and holding out his arms. River, gritting her teeth, sank down onto his lap like she normally would. Enfolding her in his arms, he said almost cheerfully, "Got in touch with the Fryes. They've agreed to look after the kids. I didn't see the need to tell them everything that was going on. No need to worry them."

River frowned. "But they need to know to protect the children," she protested.

"They'll protect them just fine without having to get involved in this whole messy business," Mal said easily. "And I got in touch with Monty already. He's game to meet up with us, though I didn't think it safe to tell him all the details over the Cortex. Alliance hundans might be listening for all we know."

River swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. "And the others?" she asked.

"Left a message for the Operative. I'm still waiting for him to get back to me, but I'm sure he'll be onboard with it, River. After all, he was prepared to go to war before."

"And people died," River said softly. "Because we weren't as prepared as he thought we were."

Mal grimaced. "True, but bao bei, that was different."

"How so?" River asked, eyeing him intently.

"Because, truth be told, I wasn't ready to lead then," Mal replied. "I was, at best, reluctant about it. Too cautious, too worried that we couldn't win. And the people who came to enlist, well, they could sense it, no doubt. But I've got no such reservations now. I know, somewhere deep down, that when we start this thing, people will rush forward to fight for their freedom. A helluva lot more than before. And when they do, the Alliance will fall. I'm sure of it." He looked into River's huge brown eyes. "Can't you see it, River?"

River blinked slowly, reaching into his mind as carefully as she could. But all she saw there was a darkness so impenetrable that it chilled her to the bone. "I'm not certain of what I see," she whispered as he bent to kiss her.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus tapped impatiently on Murdocke's desk. "So what am I looking at?" he asked.

Murdocke frowned, checking his instruments again. Swearing a low string of Mandarin, he said, "I thought I had it there for a minute. Thought I'd broken the gorram code."

Marcus sighed. "Keep working on it. And keep the ship secure. We'll be back when the drop's done."

Murdocke nodded distractedly, tinkering with the instrument again as Marcus headed out to complete the drop on Three Hills.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hill looked at Senator Michaels with a thin smile. "Our man has recovered well from the unexpected turn of events. He's back aboard his own vessel, and is contacting the potential leaders of the resistance now. So far, to a man, they have agreed to meet with him to discuss the organization of an army. Except for the young man, Marcus Hazzard, who has been strangely reluctant to commit."

Michaels frowned. "This Hazzard, is he essential?"

"Not necessarily," Hill replied. "Though it is believed that he will eventually throw in his lot with Serenity." He paused for a moment, debating whether to tell the Senator what else he knew about Marcus. "There is something that potentially stands in his way."

"What is that?" Michaels asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"The transmission that our subject sent to me from the Hit or Miss was apparently recorded in some way," Hill said.

"How do you know this?" Michaels asked, beginning to get agitated.

"The transmissions are tagged so that if someone tries to break the encryption, I am alerted," Hill replied calmly.

"And has he broken it?"

"Not so far," Hill replied a little smugly. "But it could be that his reluctance to join Reynolds has something to do with trying to decipher the transmission." Seeing Michaels' expression, he continued smoothly, "It matters little. The situation is being attended to as we speak."

Michaels leaned back in his chair, slightly reassured. "And the other glitch?"

Hill smiled. "The boy will be on Harvest within the day. Within the next two days, he will have been retrieved."

Michaels nodded, smiling. "Excellent," he said, impressed with the efficiency of the man in front of him.

Hill inclined his head in acknowledgement.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I have to say that went surprisingly well," Elizabeth said, smiling up at Marcus happily.

"Due in large part to the fact that the contact was totally besotted with you," Pierre said, smiling under his mask. "He hardly even looked at Bear."

Bear sniffed. "I didn't see any need to draw attention to myself, when it was fair obvious that he was more than willing to hand over the full price without arguing."

"I was a little surprised at that myself," Marcus said. "What with us being late and all."

Pierre snorted. "Surprised? I don't think so. You knew he was a sucker for a good-looking woman. S'why you asked Elizabeth to come in the first place."

Elizabeth blushed slightly. "Why, Pierre, thank you."

Pierre bowed slightly as she turned to Marcus. "Is that really why you asked me to come?' she asked.

Marcus had the grace to blush. "Well, a man's gotta use what he's got," he said. At her frown, he continued, "And now we've got a good bit of cashy money, thanks to you."

Just as Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, Bear said, "That's odd."

"What?" Marcus asked. Looking in the direction Bear was looking, he saw that the entrance to the ship was open. Picking up his pace, he drew his gun.

"Murdocke?" he yelled, listening carefully for an answer. He was greeted with silence. "Stay out here," he said to Elizabeth over his shoulder as Pierre and Bear fanned out about him with their guns drawn as well. "And if anyone but us comes out, run like hell."

Elizabeth nodded, her blue eyes wide as saucers as Marcus and his men made their way into the ship. She stood for a long time in the suddenly oppressive heat of the day, worried beyond measure about what was happening inside. Just as she was about to head back into town to bring someone to help, Marcus appeared in the doorway and motioned her forward.

"What…?" she began.

"He's gone," Marcus said. "We've searched the whole ship, and Murdocke's just…gone."

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	17. Chapter 17

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XVI—Thin Line**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Marcus gets an unexpected wave, and Murdocke wakes up.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus watched Bear making his way back to the Hit or Miss, amazed as always that such a large mountain of a man could move so rapidly. "Any sign?" he asked as Bear walked up the ramp.

Bear frowned. "No sign of Murdocke, but a ship landed 'bout half a mile from here and left in a hurry, by the looks of it." He looked at his Captain balefully. "And there was some blood."

Marcus' fingers tightened reflexively on the weapon at his side. "A lot?"

Bear shook his head. "No, wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't been looking for it. Drops, nothing more……but they were around where the ship was." Looking out again toward the settlement, he asked, "I take it Pierre didn't find anything."

"Nothing," Marcus said. "And neither did I."

"Then it's fair certain he was on that ship," Bear said flatly.

"Which leaves us with exactly nothing to go on," Marcus replied, sighing. "Other than the fact that he isn't the only thing missing."

Bear's eyebrows rose fractionally. "What else is gone?"

"The transmission log," Marcus replied grimly. "The one he was trying to decode."

"The one Captain Reynolds sent," Bear said.

Marcus nodded. "Can't help but assume the two things are related. In which case…"

"We need to talk to Captain Reynolds," Bear said.

Marcus frowned, not quite sure of why his instincts were screaming at him that talking to Mal about Murdocke's disappearance would be a very bad thing. "I need to think on it," he said finally.

"And what are we gonna do in the meantime?" Bear asked.

"Well, I….." Marcus began only to be interrupted by Pierre's voice coming over the comm.

"Marcus, you need to get up here now," Pierre said, the tension in his voice palpable even over the comm connection.

Taking the steps three at a time, Marcus ran toward the bridge. "What's happening?" he asked, slightly winded.

Pierre rose from his seat and motioned Marcus into it. "A wave from Mrs. Reynolds," he said.

Marcus looked at River's image on the screen and noted the tight lines around her eyes and mouth that told him she was under duress. "Mrs. Reynolds?" he asked.

"Marcus," she said, relief in her tone. "I need your help. Listen quickly. I haven't much time. I can't explain now, but I will when I can. You're on Three Hills, correct?"

"Yes," Marcus replied, leaning forward as her urgency began to rub off on him as well.

"I need you to go to Harvest," she said. "It's only a day away, at full burn. The children are there, and….I have reason to believe they are in danger."

"Why?" Marcus asked, his heart skipping a beat with the thought of danger to Serenity's children.

River shook her head impatiently. "I…can't tell you right now. Just go to them, get them to safety, and keep them until I can contact you. Please."

Something in her eyes was desperate and haunted and Marcus could see the effort she was making to maintain control. "Where on Harvest?" he asked.

"I've sent you a transmission with the coordinates," she replied. "And there's a recorded message there for the people who are looking after them. It's Kaylee's family. The message is for them, so that they will release the children to you and get to safety themselves."

Marcus swallowed nervously. "River, who is after them? And why did Mal decide to leave them there? I thought he intended to keep them with you."

River straightened suddenly, swinging her head around to look behind her. "No time to explain. He's awake now. Please, Marcus, just do this for the children. I'll wave again when I can."

"All right," Marcus was still saying when the screen faded to black and just like that, River was gone.

"What in nine hells was that all about?" Pierre asked softly from slightly behind Marcus.

"I don't know," Marcus replied grimly. "But I'm thinking all of this, and Murdocke's disappearance, are tied somehow to that gorram transmission. And I mean to find out how." Pushing the pilot's chair back, he stood and motioned Pierre back into it. "Set a course for Harvest. Full burn. And send the transmission she sent with the recording to my cabin."

Pierre nodded, his fingers already flying over the console as Marcus left the bridge.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Why did you not simply kill him?" Senator Michaels asked, though the question had no real heat behind it.

Hill looked coolly at the Senator for a long moment. "It was thought that he might prove useful," he said finally. "He is a talented engineer. Impressively enough, he had broken through the encryption before my colleagues got to him. They, of course, were able to contain the damage. But still, such a feat should not be ignored." He paused, noting the Senator's look of slight boredom. "And it is possible that he may be used as leverage, should the young Captain of the Hit or Miss cause any trouble."

"Now that makes sense," Michaels said, nodding his head in agreement.

Hill concealed his disdain for the Senator, thinking how crude his thought processes were in this situation that begged for subtlety. Still, working with the military usually involved dealing with something less than finesse. He smiled thinly. "I'm glad you approve," he said.

"So, he's already been transferred to the facility?" Michaels asked, happy now.

"We thought it simplest to have him there," Hill confirmed. "No need to spread the project out over a large area when the prison is perfectly suited for our purposes."

Michaels nodded, pleased with the update.

XXXXXXXXXX

Murdocke awoke with the mother and father of all headaches pounding behind his eyes. Sitting up groggily, he gingerly touched his temples, wincing at the slight movement. He opened his eyes and immediately thought better of it as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him.

Thinking that vomiting would most assuredly cause his head to explode, he concentrated on drawing deep, steady breaths, praying either to get better quickly or die and be done with it.

After a time, he felt marginally better and thought it safe to open his eyes. He looked around, wondering if he was hallucinating. Dull gray stone walls, a narrow bunk across the tiny space, a small basin and toilet in the corner, and the distinct smell of an institutional facility clued him in to his whereabouts. Unless he was mistaken, he thought with some confusion, he was sitting on the floor of an Alliance prison cell.

Feeling something sticky below his nose and down to his chin, he lightly touched a finger to his face. Looking at his fingertip, he saw blood. Glancing down further, he realized that his clothes had been replaced by a nondescript gray uniform with a number printed across the breast pocket. The uniform was not spotted with his blood, so he could only assume that whatever had caused the nosebleed had happened before these shapeless clothes had been put on him.

He thought back, trying to remember what had happened. He'd been on the Hit or Miss, alone, working on the code that Marcus wanted cracked. He smiled at the memory, proud that he had managed to crack the code and open the transmission. He'd barely managed to read the transmission when his head had begun to pound unmercifully and he remembered the vague sense of disorientation he'd felt as he found it increasingly difficult to sit upright.

He'd turned, meaning to get to the sink and wash his face, hoping that the cold water might ease the blinding ache. But in his peripheral vision, he'd seen two men standing, inexplicably, in his cabin, staring at him calmly. As he'd watched, the two men had morphed into four, and then many more, and he'd realized that his vision was strangely impaired.

In a disoriented haze, he had stumbled back toward his desk, meaning to reach for the weapon he kept there. The men looked at him impassively, saying nothing. Their hands, he'd noticed, were incongruously covered with blue gloves. Something struck a chord in his befuddled thoughts, and he'd realized that they were the ones from the transmission, the ones that Mal had been reporting to. The thought struck him as urgently important, and he'd fumbled around behind him, shielding the motion of his hands with his body as the men finally moved forward. He'd pressed a small button on his comm unit and then the 'verse had faded to a deep black.

Murdocke shook his head as if to wake himself up and immediately regretted the motion. Leaning back against the cool stone of the wall, he thought about what he knew and where in the sphincter of hell he might be.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You look tired, darlin'," Mal said, walking onto the bridge with a steaming cup of tea in his hand. He handed it to River. "Any sign of the cruiser?" he asked.

"Occasionally," she said, sipping the warm liquid slowly. "They seem to be content with just shadowing us for some reason."

Mal scowled. "We need to shake them off, 'fore we can get to the rendezvous point. Don't want any uninvited guests to crash this particular shindig."

River looked at him steadily. "So, how many have you contacted?"

Mal sat down in the co-pilot's chair with a satisfied air. "Talked to the Operative this morning," he said. "He and some of the Underground folks will be there. And he has some ideas about how we can get some air support. You know, that was a major flaw in our operation the first time. He's apparently been working on a solution." Mal looked at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement. "We get decent air support, and we can win this thing, River. And you'll never have to look over your shoulder again, worried that some hundan in an Alliance uniform is standing behind you."

River managed a weak smile. "So, the Operative will be there. And Monty."

Mal nodded. "And Renshaw. And Davies." He paused. "Did I ever tell you about Davies?" he said, smiling.

River shook her head. "I don't believe so," she answered.

"He was a gorram good soldier, after Zoe got finished with him, that is," Mal said, smiling at the memory.

River shivered, thinking it creepifying to see this man relive a memory that could not possibly be his own. "So, that's all?" she prompted. "That's all the people who are coming?"

"No, no," Mal replied. "There will be others. Somewhere around a hundred so far. And some of the most loyal, die-hard Independents I ever met," he said. "And I've got the word out that we would welcome the men who've been labeled as terrorists. I figure somebody in that group will know who they are and bring them along." He paused for a moment. "Haven't heard back from Marcus, though. Thought I'd wave him this morning."

He rose and stood behind River, leaning over her to access the cortex screen. Entering in the code for the Hit or Miss, he waited. River's heart hammered wildly at her throat as she sat frozen, staring at the screen as Marcus' face appeared.

"Morning, Marcus," Mal said heartily. "How'd the job on Three Hills go?"

"Well enough," Marcus replied neutrally, noting River's strained expression peripherally. "How goes it with you?"

"Couldn't be better," Mal replied. "Made contact with those folks I told you about, and they're all ready, willing, and able. Just wanted to know if you've made a decision yet."

"Not quite yet," Marcus said. "Have some things to attend to, but I'll be letting you know when I can."

Mal frowned slightly before nodding. "All right, but don't wait too long. We're set to get together within the next few weeks. Dong ma?"

Marcus nodded. "I understand. Fair winds to you, Mal."

"And you," Mal replied as Marcus cut the transmission.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus stared at the blank screen for a few minutes in silence.

"What was that?" Pierre asked quietly.

Marcus sighed. "Whatever's happening, Mrs. Reynolds knows something that I need to know."

"So how are you gonna find out what she knows?" Bear asked from the doorway, where he'd been listening in.

"S'not like you can wave Serenity and ask to speak with her," Pierre said. "I get the distinct impression she does not want the Captain to know she's spoken with you."

"That's my take as well," Marcus said. "Her shoulders were tight as a bowstring just now. But there's one thing about it. If we get to the kids, she'll find a way to get back to us."

Pierre nodded. "Should be there by tomorrow morning."

"Good," Marcus said, standing up to leave. "Anything else happens, call. I'll be in my cabin, going over the consumption reports. Fuel might get to be a little tight, since we're at full burn for Harvest."

He walked off the bridge, thinking just like the other two men, that he wished Murdocke were there to nurse just a little more speed out of the engines.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	18. Chapter 18

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XVII—Cat and Mouse**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Marcus finds an answer or two, and Adam gets a message from his mother.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus headed to his cabin to check the fuel consumption logs. Without Murdocke to nurse the engines along, he knew that by the time the Hit or Miss arrived on Harvest, they would have to find a place to re-fuel. He had rarely been to Harvest, as it was a largely agricultural world and most of his clients tended to need things other than simple produce transported. Making a mental note to check for a re-fueling station on Harvest before they arrived, he sat down to scan his logs.

Reading swiftly through the items that were over two days old, he frowned as he saw an entry dated with the current date. Opening the file, he began to smile. Though Murdocke was often a pain in the pi gu, he did have his uses. Flashing impatiently on the screen was a message embedded in the consumption log. Quickly entering his access code, Marcus waited for the message to load.

Once the information appeared, Marcus simply stared at it for a long moment, his pulse pounding and his mouth suddenly dry. With a growing sense of horror, he read the decoded transmission that he'd been so eager to obtain. Wondering how Murdocke had managed to send it to him while being abducted, Marcus felt a sudden rush of genuine affection for the irritating man. He sent up a brief prayer in behalf of his missing engineer.

Re-reading the transmission carefully, Marcus realized that the situation was much worse than he had imagined. Knowing with a certainty that bordered on absolute that the Malcolm Reynolds he knew would never send an information-filled transmission to the BlueSun Corporation, Marcus' mind reeled with the possibilities of what was actually going on.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he did not hear Elizabeth until she was standing at his shoulder.

"Marcus," she said, her voice laced with concern. "Are you all right? You look sort of…haggard."

Marcus nodded. "Got a right to be, I conjure," he said, pointing to the screen. "Murdocke managed to get the code to me. Buried it in the consumption logs where I'd be sure to find it, but where the hundans who took him would be fair certain not to look for it. Man's a gorram genius occasionally."

Elizabeth frowned, leaning forward to read the transmission. Marcus watched the color drain from her face as she read.

"But this means…" she began.

Marcus nodded. "That whoever it is on Serenity, I'd stake my life it ain't Mal."

"But how is that even possible?" Elizabeth asked, shaken to the core.

"You tell me," Marcus replied. "Sure as hell looks like Mal, talks like Mal, walks like Mal."

"But he doesn't act like Mal," Elizabeth added. "Declaring war on the Alliance…."

Marcus nodded. "Not to say that Mal wouldn't like to fight the Alliance if there was a chance of success, but this…person is hellbent on it."

"But to what purpose?" Elizabeth asked.

"Don't know," Marcus replied grimly. "But the folks on Serenity need to read this transmission. Need to know what they're dealing with." He paused for a moment. "Think Mrs. Reynolds already suspects, asking me to go get the children."

Elizabeth looked at him with wide, blue eyes. "You don't think he means to harm the children?"

"Ain't aimin' to let 'em wait around and find out," Marcus said. "And soon's the children are safe on the Hit or Miss, I need to find a way to talk to Mrs. Reynolds."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Adam, what in the 'verse are you doing?" Anya asked, walking into the Fryes' smallest bedroom, where Adam and Daniel were sharing a bed.

"Packin'," Adam replied, stuffing his clothes and his dinosaur into a small duffel.

"I see that," Anya said. "But why? Where do you think you're going?"

"We're all going with Mr. Marcus," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Better get your things too."

Anya sat down on the bed. "Why would we be going anywhere with Captain Hazzard?" she asked.

"'Cause Mama's sending him to get us," Adam replied, pulling her back onto her feet. "He'll be here soon. You gotta hurry, 'cause Daniel and Hannah are too little to pack their stuff."

"Adam," Anya asked, suddenly very frightened but trying valiantly to keep her voice steady. "Are we in danger?"

"Not if we're ready to leave when he comes," Adam replied. "Mama said it would all be all right."

"In your head, right?" Anya asked, needing the clarification. "She sent you a message…with her brain."

"Yep," Adam said, smiling proudly. "And I got it just like she said I would if I practiced."

Anya gave him a weak smile and hurried to pack her own bags and the bags of the other children.

XXXXXXXXXX

When Marcus and Bear arrived on the front steps of Kaylee's homeplace, Mr. Frye greeted them with a loaded shotgun. Marcus, thinking that perhaps it would have been better to bring Elizabeth than Bear in this particular instance, raised his hands in the universal gesture of peaceful surrender. "Mr. Frye?" he asked, making sure to smile charmingly.

Mr. Frye scowled at him over the barrel of the shotgun, but chose not to answer. "Who are you?" he asked instead.

"My name is Marcus Hazzard. I'm the Captain of the Hit or Miss. And this is one of my crew, Bear."

Mr. Frye did not lower the gun barrel even one inch, but he smiled wryly. "Can see where he gets the name," he acknowledged, looking at Bear's intimidating physique. "What's your business here?"

"I have a message from your daughter Kaylee," Marcus said. "It's on a capture screen in my pocket. Let me just…"

"Move them hands slow-like," Mr. Frye said calmly.

Marcus nodded and slowly pulled the vid recording from his pocket. Holding it up so that Mr. Frye could both see and hear it properly, he began the recording. Mr. Frye listened, his gun barrel dropping lower as he heard and saw Kaylee explaining that Marcus was there to take the children to safety.

"Who's coming for them?" he asked when the recording ended. "What kind of trouble are they in?"

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not rightly sure," he replied honestly. "But it has something to do with the BlueSun Corporation, and something to do with the Alliance. Apparently some kind of joint project that they're working on. Whatever the reason, Mrs. Reynolds asked me to retrieve the children and also see that your family gets somewhere safe."

Mr. Frye finally lowered his weapon all the way. "Come on in," he said. "I'll send my wife to gather up the children and their things."

"You can come with us," Marcus suggested. "The Hit or Miss is a large vessel. There would be plenty of room. And you'd be safe there."

Mr. Frye looked at him steadily. "Got a place we can stay 'til the danger's past, I conjure," he said. "Ain't much of nothin', but it's good enough for me and the missus. Can't think to leave the place now," he added. "'S'our home, and has been since near 'bout forever ago. Dong ma?"

"Yes," Marcus said. "I do understand. But, these people, if they are with the BlueSun Corporation, they're very, very bad folk. Are you certain you don't want to come with us?"

Mr. Frye shook his head. "Me and the missus'll be just shiny. You get the young'uns where they need to go, and don't trouble yourself with us."

As he spoke, the children walked into the room, bags already packed and ready to go. Mr. Frye frowned. "How'd you young'uns know that you needed to get your little duds together?"

Adam smiled. "Mama told me," he said.

While Mr. Frye was trying to decipher how that could possibly be, Bear gathered up the children and their bags quickly. Content to follow him like the pied piper, the children followed him out toward where the Hit or Miss was docked.

Marcus extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Frye," he said. "Your daughter is a real treasure to Captain Reynolds."

Mr. Frye returned his smile. "Good," he said. "Reckon that means he'll do everything he can to keep her safe."

"Of that, I've no doubt," Marcus said, though the thought of whoever or whatever that thing was on Serenity impersonating his friend left him cold. Walking out into the bright light of Harvest's day, he followed Bear and the children back to his ship.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What do you mean, you can't find them?" Hill asked, a slight tic forming under his left eye. "Harvest is not that large. How many places could they possibly be?"

"Several," replied a man who looked remarkably like Hill. "Though it is our belief that they are no longer on Harvest at all."

Hill raised one cynical eyebrow. "And what leads you to that conclusion?"

The other man smiled at him thinly. "There is a small fueling station about 30 kilometers from here," he said.

"And?" Hill asked, the tiny tic beginning to really annoy him.

"And according to the station's records for the day, the Hit or Miss re-fueled here less than three hours ago."

Hill sat back in his chair, experiencing the strange sensation of genuine surprise. "And the people who originally sheltered the children? Where are they?"

The man looked slightly perturbed. "We haven't been able to ascertain a location for them yet. But there are men working on it as we speak."

Hill nodded, his mind having already moved to the much more important issue. "If the Hit or Miss picked up the boy, then someone on Serenity is aware of our …experiment."

The other man nodded in acknowledgement. "That was my assumption as well."

Hill's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "All right," he said, dismissing the man. "Go on looking for the people who sheltered the boy. If you find them, kill them. They are non-essential."

"Of course," the other man acknowledged with the slightest of inclinations of his head.

XXXXXXXXXX

Senator Michaels was more than perturbed by the turn of events. Fuming, he looked at Hill with eyes practically designed to flatten the man into a messy puddle Hill looked back impassively.

"So, what is the planned course of action?" Michaels hissed angrily.

Hill shrugged as if the answer to Michaels' question were obvious. "If the subject has been compromised, he will have to be eliminated and replaced."

"And there is another 'copy' of Reynolds available now?"

Hill nodded. "He will need to be imprinted with Reynolds' thought patterns. But that takes relatively little time. He could be activated well before the proposed meeting with the Independent sympathizers."

Michaels tapped his fingertip against his teeth, lost in thought. "Could work even better than the original plan," he said after a time.

"How so?" Hill asked.

"How many people do you think will rally to his cause if he's the sole survivor of a vicious Alliance attack on his family and friends?" Michaels asked, his smile almost feral.

Hill nodded. "Indeed a potentially wonderful way to use the situation to best advantage, Senator."

Michaels nodded, practically preening with the praise. Entering the code for a priority message to the Alliance cruiser that had been shadowing Serenity just out of range of her sensors, he waited impatiently until Commander Liang appeared on the screen.

"You wished to talk with me, sir?" the Commander asked.

"Yes," Michaels said quickly. "There has been a change in the situation. Your new orders are to track down and destroy the Firefly and the Cicada class vessel that have been under surveillance. And Commander," he added. "Ensure there are no survivors."

"Yes sir," Commander Liang said, saluting smartly before the screen faded to black.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	19. Chapter 19

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XVIII--Frying Pan to Fire**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Marcus has a talk with Adam, and the Hit or Miss catches up with Serenity.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus stood in the doorway of the make shift playroom, watching the children swarm all over the long-suffering Bear. Normally, such a sight would have brought a smile to his face, but the growing alarm he had regarding the man captaining Serenity made it impossible to dredge one up.

Adam, climbing off Bear's back, walked over to Marcus and slid his small hand into the man's much larger one. "S'not Daddy, you know," he whispered, looking up solemnly into Marcus' eyes.

Marcus tried to ignore how discomfited he was by the thought that the child was a Reader. Though he'd managed to acclimate himself to the idea that River was a Reader, somehow it was harder to be comfortable with Adam as one, perhaps because of his youth. "It's not polite to read folk without their permission," he said softly.

Adam looked stricken. "Sometimes I can't help it. You were thinking very loud."

Marcus smiled, regretting making Adam uncomfortable. "Sorry," he said. "Guess I've just got a lot on my mind." As Adam's first words sank in, he added, "What do you mean, it's not your Daddy?"

Adam glanced over his shoulder, not wanting the other children to hear what he had to say. Marcus, noting the gesture, pulled him into the hallway. "Want to talk about it someplace quiet?" he suggested.

Adam nodded gratefully, and they walked hand-in-hand to the deserted common area. Sitting down on one of the couches, Marcus patted the seat beside him and Adam climbed up, settling beside Marcus. "So, what is it you want to tell me?" Marcus asked, allowing Adam to wriggle under his arm until he was plastered to his side.

"The man on Serenity with Mama," Adam said worriedly. "He's not my Daddy."

Marcus carefully avoided letting his arm tense around the boy. "How do you know?" he asked.

Adam frowned. "He doesn't act like Daddy. Doesn't use the right voices when he reads my stories, and Hannah's all fussy when he holds her." He shifted against Marcus' leg. "When my real Daddy holds Hannah, she gets all quiet-like and calm. Mama always says he's a wonder with her."

Marcus nodded. "Anything else?" he asked gently, though his heart was hammering against his chest almost painfully.

"Well," Adam said, trying to decide if it was all right for him to reveal the next part. Deciding it probably was, he said, "Mama asked me to find Daddy…you know, see if I could see him. And she sat with me on the bed and tried to find him too."

"And then what happened?" Marcus asked.

Adam smiled proudly at the memory. "I saw Daddy," he said. "Only he wasn't where he was supposed to be."

"Where was he?"

"Don't know," Adam said, frowning. "Somewhere where everything is kinda gray. The walls were gray, like some kind of rock or something. And Daddy was wearing a funny outfit, like Miss Kaylee's coveralls, kinda'."

Marcus nodded. "I see. Anything else?"

Adam shook his head. "No," he said. "Just wanted you to know that man on Serenity ain't my Daddy."

"Thank you for telling me," Marcus said solemnly. "Best you be getting back to the others now. I've got some things to do."

Adam nodded and climbed off the couch, leaving Marcus to absorb all he'd just heard.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus cursed silently when Mal's face coalesced on the screen. He had hoped that River would be the one answering his wave, needing desperately to talk with her alone. Forcing a smile to his lips, he said, "Mal."

"Marcus," Mal said heartily. "I was just thinking about waving you again. Have you decided what you're gonna do?"

"I believe so," Marcus said, thinking the question and answer perversely ironic. "Think it's time for us to meet again. I have some things I need to go over with you privately before we go forward."

"Sounds good," Mal said, smiling. "We're en route to the rendezvous point with everyone else now. Just a few days out. Wanna meet us there?"

Marcus shook his head. "I think it would be better to meet you now," he said, hoping his voice did not betray his thoughts. "Where are you?"

Mal looked down at his console and rattled off the coordinates. Marcus nodded. "We're not too far away," he said. "You stay where you are, and I can be there in about three hours."

Mal nodded. "Sounds good," he said. "Look forward to it."

"Yeah," Marcus replied, his throat tightening around the lie as he cut the transmission.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I have Serenity in sight now, Senator," Commander Liang reported crisply. "Awaiting your final order."

Michaels nodded. "Are they aware of your presence?"

"No sir, not so far as we know," Liang said. "We've managed to stay just beyond their sensor range."

"Excellent," Michaels replied. "There has been a slight change of plan. We received word from our colleagues that the other ship you are to destroy is en route to Serenity even now. Your orders are to wait for the Hit or Miss to arrive. Once the two ships are within range of your weapons, let me know. And I will give the final order at that time. Until then, do not…I repeat, do not…let Serenity know you are in the vicinity."

"Yes sir," Liang answered crisply.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Need any help?" Anya asked, walking into the galley where Pierre was busily preparing the evening meal.

"None," Pierre said. "But thank you for asking."

Anya's face fell slightly. Not to be deterred, she asked hopefully, "Want some company then?"

Pierre looked up from slicing the vegetables and saw the faint flush of the young girl's cheeks. "That would be nice," he said a little hesitantly.

A small warning alarm went off in his head as the girl blossomed under his gaze. He cleared his throat nervously. "Come to think of it, maybe you'd like to set the table," he said lamely.

"Of course," Anya replied, bubbling with excitement to be able to have Pierre all to herself for at least a few minutes. She had been, as girls her age tended to do, nursing a crush on the most mysterious man she could think of, which in this case happened to be the masked Pierre.

As she set the table, she talked animatedly while Pierre tried to figure how to get out of the uncomfortable situation without hurting the girl's feelings. It had been some time since anyone had been anything close to infatuated with him, and somewhere along the way, he had forgotten how to handle such a thing. "So," he said, cutting her off in mid-chatter with an atypical lack of insight, "Have you met any boys in your travels? Anyone you write to, or wave regularly, or…" His words trailed off.

Anya fixed him with a piercing, blue-eyed stare. "Don't like the boys my age," she said. "They're all so…..infantile."

"I see," Pierre said, not at all pleased with the way the conversation was going.

Anya cleared her throat nervously and scuffed her foot on the deck. "How about you, Mr. Pierre?" she asked, her cheeks bright red with the audacity of her question. "Is there anyone you wave, or write to?"

Though the answer was a rather dismaying 'no', Pierre saw his chance and grabbed it like a lifeline. "Yes, Anya, yes, there is," he said, turning back to chopping his vegetables to avoid seeing her face fall. "For the past few months, in fact."

Anya could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. With all the drama of a first heartbreak, she thought her heart might just stop beating right there in the galley. "Is she….very pretty?" she asked.

Pierre's own heart twisted with the anguish in her soft voice. "Extremely," he said, hardening his heart for Anya's own good. "I'm sure you'd like her, if you could meet her."

Anya nodded miserably, thinking that she was quite sure she would hate the woman on sight. "I'll look forward to it," she managed to say in a strangled voice as she put the last of the silverware on the table with a heavy heart.

Pierre watched her from the corner of his eye, hating that fact that he had had to cause the little girl any pain. She really was a kind soul, he thought dismally. Too bad that he should be the one to give her that first bitter taste of romantic disappointment. Remembering the feeling all too well from his own youth, he could not quite suppress a small sigh. "Thank you for your help, Anya," he said kindly. "I think I can handle everything from here. Why don't you go see about the other children?"

Anya nodded. "All right," she answered softly, sighing as she walked out of the galley with a small crack in her tender heart, realizing that Pierre saw her only as a child.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pierre docked the Hit or Miss seamlessly with Serenity, and headed toward the airlock. Having roped Elizabeth into watching over the sleeping children, Marcus had made sure that both Pierre and Bear would be at his back for what was about to happen.

When both men arrived, armed and sporting grim expressions, Marcus drew a deep breath and said, "Let's get this over with."

"We absolutely sure that it isn't the real Malcolm Reynolds we're dealing with?" Bear asked quietly as they walked toward the airlock.

"Sure as it's possible to be, I conjure," Marcus replied, sweat beginning to trickle down his spine.

"Helluva chance to take, 'less we're sure," Bear said.

"If we're right and we don't do this," Pierre pointed out. "There's no telling what go se might go down."

Marcus nodded, thankful to his pilot and friend for supporting his decision despite the risk factor. "We're on," he said softly as they stepped from the airlock into Serenity's cargo bay, where the crew, with the exception of Inara, were all assembled and waiting.

Marcus observed peripherally that River looked particularly tense, as if she could divine what was about to happen. He sincerely hoped that she could, given that he had been unable to speak with her directly about it. Thinking as loudly as he could manage, he broadcast his plan to her, hoping that she was as astute as her young son where his thoughts were concerned. After a moment, River nodded almost imperceptibly, and Marcus took a deep breath.

Mal was walking forward to extend his hand, but Marcus drew his gun, stopping the man in his tracks. Mal scowled, drawing his own gun. "What's goin' on here, Marcus?" he asked tightly.

"I'd like you to come with me," Marcus said, his voice much steadier at the moment than his heart.

"Where to?" Mal asked, deadly calm.

"To the Hit or Miss," Marcus replied, having decided he would rather deal with the impostor on his own ship rather than handle it on Serenity in front of Mal's crew.

"Why?" Mal asked.

Marcus sighed. "Just need to suss out some things," he said. "And I don't want to do it here."

Mal stared at him intently as if he could read the man as easily as River had. Marcus wondered fleetingly if perhaps he could do just that. The air in the cargo bay was charged with tension, a tension so thick that it prickled along the skin of Marcus' hand as he held his gun perfectly steady.

"You sure you want to go down this road?" Mal asked, his voice low and deadly as he stared at the younger Captain.

"Fair certain I don't," Marcus replied, his own voice coming out flat and deceptively calm. "Don't see as I have a choice."

"A man always has a choice," Mal replied as his finger flexed slightly on the trigger of his own gun.

Marcus exhaled a slow breath. "See, I don't think so," he said, every molecule of his body attuned to the man in front of him, blocking out everything else that surrounded him.

He knew, dimly, that his crew stood at his back, both men poised and ready for what was about to happen. More ready than he was, if the truth were told, he thought wryly. Thin beads of sweat lined his brow and upper lip as he looked at Mal.

Mal held his gaze, but somehow managed to gesture toward the crew of Serenity, standing in various poses of readiness around him. "You aim to do this in front of them?" he asked.

"Would rather you'd come with me, quiet-like," Marcus replied, sadness in his voice. "No need to make this uglier than it has to be."

Mal snorted. "Here's the thing. I ain't wildly interested in making this pretty."

Marcus nodded, his jaw tightening visibly. "Sorta proves my point," he said, directing his words more toward Serenity's crew than her Captain. "When you think about it." Talking once again to Mal, he said, "Last time I'm asking you to come with me without any undue fuss."

Mal stood motionless, and Marcus had a wild moment of optimism. Then, almost imperceptibly, Mal exhaled slowly and Marcus, seeing Mal's trigger finger move, did what he had never imagined doing until this very day. He pulled the trigger.

Mal fell forward, an obscenely neat bullet hole blossoming red on his chest. Marcus blinked slowly, feeling a slight sting as Mal's bullet barely grazed his shoulder. The only sound he could hear was the pounding of his pulse in his ears and River's strangled cry.

For a long moment, no one moved as Mal gasped on the floor of the cargo bay. As if in slow motion, Mal raised his gun, his arm shaking with the effort as the bullet torn its way through his chest wall. Marcus watched, almost mesmerized by the sight as Mal's arm wavered and finally, blessedly, fell back to the deck lifelessly.

River sank to the floor, her knees unable to hold her up. "Mrs. Reynolds," Marcus said, snapped out of his stupor by her collapse. He reached her in two quick strides. "Mrs. Reynolds, I'm sorry…sorry you had to see that."

River shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's all right," she said hoarsely. "It's just that…."

"It's Mal," Marcus finished. "I know." Embarrassed that his own eyes were misting, he pulled her up as Simon and Zoe moved to her side. "I mean, it isn't Mal, of course, but still…..it's a terrible thing to have to see."

"Or do," Zoe said, looking at him with gratitude. "Don't know that I would have wanted to have to do it."

As they all stood over the corpse, still reeling from what had happened, the proximity alarm sounded. Running toward the comm, Zoe hit the button quickly. "What's going on up there, Inara?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically strained.

Inara's voice filtered into the bay. "It's the Alliance cruiser. And they're closing fast."

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	20. Chapter 20

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XIX—Squaring Off**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The battle cruiser closes in, and Serenity and the Hit or Miss are sitting ducks.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pierre turned swiftly to Marcus. "If they're that close, we don't have time to disengage the ships."

Marcus swore a long, low string of Mandarin. "Get up to the bridge, and see if you can help Inara."

Turning quickly to River, he asked, "You all right?"

River nodded. "Yes," she replied, turning toward the bridge. "Come with me."

Everyone in the cargo bay headed to the bridge, leaving Mal's corpse on the deck. When they got the bridge, an Alliance battle cruiser filled the transparency, its weaponry gleaming malevolently in the reflected light of the stars. Pierre turned to look at Marcus. "No way to outrun them with the mass of both ships. And we have no maneuverability as long as we're attached."

Zoe spoke, assuming command. "Have they hailed us, Inara?"

"No," Inara said, slipping out of the pilot's chair and relinquishing it to River. "Nothing. They just suddenly appeared on the sensors and closed the distance between us fast."

Marcus' frown mirrored Zoe's. "No hail means…what?"

"Don't know," Zoe replied. "The last time we saw the Cortes, they told us they intended to board us, and fired across the bow three times before we could get away."

"They're engaging weapons," Pierre said, looking over River's shoulder at the console.

"Gorram it," Marcus muttered, tensing for the inevitable hit. "Hail them. See what they want."

River's fingers moved rapidly over the controls. There was silence for a long moment. "They're not answering," she said.

"Which means they intend to just blow us out of the sky," Jayne observed from the back of the bridge.

"River, how far can you get us away from that thing?" Zoe asked.

River shook her head. "Not far. Pierre is right. With the Hit or Miss attached to us, we….." Her words trailed off.

"We what?" Zoe asked impatiently.

"There's another ship," River said hastily. "Another cruiser."

"Well, this day just keeps getting better and better," Marcus muttered. "What are they doing?"

As they watched in amazement, the second battle cruiser angled itself between the two ships and the Cortes. "The second cruiser is powering up its weapons," Pierre said.

"But they're not aimed at us," River added in astonishment.

"What are they aiming at?" Marcus asked, squinting at the console.

"It looks like they're aiming at the Cortes," Pierre said slowly.

"Think you can give them a little more room to fight?" Zoe asked, gripping the back of River's seat tightly. "Ease back a mite?"

"Maybe," River said, her fingers flying across the console.

Pierre sat down quickly at the co-pilot's chair, lending what expertise he could. Slowly, Serenity and the Hit or Miss moved backward, giving ground to the second battle cruiser.

"They're firing," River exclaimed as a bright burst of flame hit the Cortes, rippling over its hull and rocking the ship slightly.

They watched, mesmerized as the two cruisers squared off, exchanging fire in a sudden flurry of activity. Marcus, shaking himself out of his daze, turned quickly to Pierre. "Can you get us disengaged whilst they duke it out?" he asked.

Pierre rose quickly and ran toward the airlock, Marcus and Bear at his heels.

River, ever watchful of the cruisers as they fought, disengaged the airlock at Pierre's signal and the two ships broke apart with a satisfying hiss. "Take us out of here," Zoe said as soon as the ships were clear.

River nodded and pulled Serenity sharply up, watching as the Hit or Miss veered away in the opposite direction. Just as the two ships cleared the area, they were rocked by a sudden shock wave as the Cortes went up in a massive explosion. Debris rained down across Serenity's hull, and River fought to stabilize the ship. The Hit or Miss mirrored her movements, Pierre navigating through the debris with some difficulty as well.

Suddenly, the comm unit crackled to life on Serenity's bridge. "Captain Reynolds," the voice said urgently. "Are you all right?"

River hit a switch and to her surprise, the Operative appeared on the screen. "Mrs. Reynolds," he said in apparent relief. "Is everyone all right?'

"Yes," River managed to get out.

The Operative smiled. "And the ship that was docked with you?"

"I don't know," River replied. "Hold on." She opened a wave to the Hit or Miss, and Pierre confirmed that everyone was safe. Turning back to the Operative, she said, "Everyone is fine."

"Good," the Operative said, his face breaking into an uncharacteristic smile.

"Mind if I ask how you came to be in possession of an Alliance battle cruiser?" Zoe asked.

"It's a rather long story," the Operative said. "And one better told in person. There's a moon a short distance away, not inhabited, but a good place for ships to land undetected. Perhaps the story could best be told there. Where is Captain Reynolds?"

"Another long story best told in person," Zoe said dryly. "Send us the coordinates."

The Operative nodded and moved to comply. Zoe turned to River. "Wave Captain Hazzard with the coordinates. We still need to get the children."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal's cell door opened and he looked up in surprise. He'd already been fed his noon meal, so he was not expecting anyone until supper time. A tall thin man walked into the cell, and Mal knew, even before he saw the man's hands, that he was an employee of the BlueSun Corporation. Gritting his teeth, he thought bitterly that he should have known BlueSun was not finished with him. He stood slowly as the man approached.

"Come with me," the man said simply.

Mal stared at him for a moment, having expected something a little more dramatic. "Why?" he asked.

The man looked at him impassively for a moment. Motioning to two guards who had been standing outside the door, he said, "Mr. Reynolds, it would be easier if you would just cooperate."

The two guards grabbed Mal by the arms and cuffed his hands behind his back. The BlueSun man turned on his heel and left the room without a backward glance, the two guards pulling Mal behind him.

As Mal was marched down the hallway, he heard movement in a cell they were passing. He hesitated, pulling back for long enough to see the face that was peering out of the small cell window. Startled that it was actually someone he knew, he looked into the surprised eyes of Murdocke before he was shoved forward and out of sight.

His mind whirring with that information, he was led to a small, brightly lit room with two examination tables. Thinking that he was well and truly tired of ending up at the mercy of BlueSun's scientists, he balked as he was led to the nearest table and strapped down. "Seems to me you people should have already had a sufficiency of this," he hissed, trying to let his anger quell the rising sense of panic as the BlueSun employee calmly started picking up instruments on a nearby surgical tray.

Ignoring him completely, the man turned to the guards. "You may go," he said, dismissing them. When they had gone, he walked to a small side door. Holding it open, he gestured to the man inside. "You can come in now," he said.

Mal turned as much as his head restraint would allow and gasped as he saw himself enter and climb up onto the other table. Smiling thinly, his duplicate looked at him. "Surprise," he said softly, his lips curved into the same sardonic smile that Mal had perfected over the years.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having hidden the impostor's body so that the children would not see it, Jim felt the soft bump of River landing Serenity on the uninhabited moon. Heading back down to the cargo bay, he moved to Zoe's side just as she lowered the ramp to let the Operative and the crew of the Hit or Miss enter.

Marcus came first, Adam on his hip. Elizabeth followed with Hannah in her arms, and Pierre stepped forward with Anya as his shadow. Daniel, hanging off of Bear's shoulders, rounded out the group.

The Operative looked at the unlikely assortment with no small amount of puzzlement, and River stepped forward to make the introductions. Leading the way back to Serenity's galley, she motioned for everyone to follow.

Once around the familiar table, the Operative seemed to relax slightly. Zoe leaned forward. "Now then, how is it that you have an Alliance cruiser and you just happened to be in the neighborhood when we needed one?"

The Operative's lips curved slightly. "It does seem an odd coincidence," he said. "As you may be aware, I told Captain Reynolds that I was seeking to acquire air support for our cause. What you saw today was the realization of that promise. The Alliance has been systematically phasing out their older cruisers in favor of a newer model. Intelligence suggests that the new models are still in the testing phase, but several of them have been commissioned already. It so happens that one of the crews responsible for the disposition of the older cruisers has been, shall we say, persuaded that the Independents should be the recipients of a 'recycling' program."

"So basically, you filched the old ships," Marcus said, smiling.

The Operative inclined his head. "That is one way to put it."

"And you happened to be in this area because…?" Zoe persisted.

"Because it is on the way to the rendezvous point established by Captain Reynolds," the Operative replied. "We had our long range sensors activated, hoping to avoid any Alliance patrols, when we saw your ships docked together. I, of course, recognized Serenity, and thought I would travel along with you. Little did I know that by the time I got close enough to hail you, you would be involved in a showdown with the Cortes."

Jayne snorted. "Know us well enough by now to assume some eerie-assed thing would be happening to us."

"Touche'," the Operative said. "But you have not answered my question. Where is Captain Reynolds?"

"We're not sure," Zoe replied honestly.

The Operative frowned. "But I just talked with him a few days ago. What has happened?" He turned to River.

River drew a long, deep breath. "You weren't talking to Mal," she said. "You were talking to his…clone, we believe."

The Operative inhaled sharply. "They've perfected it then?" he breathed.

Marcus leaned forward. "They who?" he asked.

The Operative looked at him measuringly for a moment. "BlueSun and the government were working together for some time to create human clones. The technology for the body has been in place for many years, but cloning was not viable as long as the subject's thought patterns and memories could not be duplicated. I assume," he said, looking at River. "That if you believe your husband was replaced by a clone, you must have been at least initially receptive to him to let him board your vessel. You must have thought it really was your husband."

"Yes," River whispered bleakly.

"Which would of course mean that they have somehow managed to re-create the…essence, if you will, of Captain Reynolds. As a Reader, you would have known instantly if they had tried to pass a simple body double off as your husband." The Operative looked at River for confirmation.

"That is correct," River said, her voice trembling slightly.

"What happened to the clone?" the Operative asked.

Marcus looked quickly at the children, who were staring wide-eyed at the adults. He swallowed thickly. "He's….out of the picture."

"But the Alliance knew he was aboard Serenity," the Operative said, frowning. "Why would they send a battle cruiser to destroy you?"

"Unless they knew somehow we'd found him out," Zoe said slowly, seeing the puzzle pieces fall into place and realizing the horror of what the Alliance had done. "What if they made more than one?"

The Operative looked at her grimly. "I would assume they have," he said.

"But why go to the trouble?" Jayne asked, frowning.

"They would still need someone to lead the Independents," Zoe said with sickening certainty. "At least long enough to get them all in one spot. How better to stamp out an enemy than to gather them all up together and get rid of them in one fell swoop?"

There was silence at the table as the import of her words sank in. "We've got to warn them," Simon said. "Got to let them know not to go to the rendezvous point."

"And we've got to find the real Mal," Marcus added. "And Murdocke."

When the Operative and everyone from Serenity looked at him strangely, he said wryly, "Didn't have time to tell you before. Murdocke's gone missing. Right after he decoded a transmission that the clone sent from the Hit or Miss. Can't help but figure that his disappearance is related to the whole thing somehow."

"What did the transmission say?" the Operative asked, leaning forward.

Marcus pulled a vid player from his pocket and showed the group the transmission.

Sitting back in his chair, the Operative said, "I suppose that is the final bit of proof that our theory is correct," he said. "But the question is, how will we find the real Captain Reynolds?"

River spoke. "I think I know where he is," she said. "When the clone died, I felt almost like a veil of some sort had been lifted. And I think I can find him now."

Adam nodded, climbing into his mother's lap. "I can help," he said. Turning to Marcus, he added, "And you're right. Mr. Murdocke is with him."

"You sure?" Marcus asked, his heart lightening with the thought.

"Can see it," Adam said, smiling.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	21. Chapter 21

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XX—Revelation**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal tries to handle the news he's received, and a rescue plan gets underway.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal stumbled back into his cell, his head throbbing from the BlueSun employee's probing as well as the horrifying confrontation with his other self. Trying to wrap his head around the thought that the Alliance had actually made another Malcolm Reynolds made him almost violently ill. The sense of violation, the sickening dread of what his double might be capable of, and the very real possibility that his family might even now be harboring one of his doubles unwittingly wounded him in a way that no physical torture had ever begun to touch him.

Sitting down heavily on the narrow cot, he covered his face with his shaky hands. Maybehaps there would be no rescue attempt, he thought bleakly. If they had put a double on Serenity, it was entirely possible that his crew was not even looking for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, too close to the edge to continue with that train of thought.

Turning his mind forcibly in another direction, he thought about Murdocke, and what his presence might signify. To his knowledge, Marcus was nowhere close by when he'd been abducted from the Skyplex, so he supposed it was possible that Murdocke's appearance in the same facility in which he was incarcerated was a coincidence….except that Malcolm Reynolds did not really believe in coincidence.

Pondering what it all might mean, Mal lay down on the cot and closed his eyes. Though he had been having no success with trying to contact River through their mental connection, he centered his thoughts on reaching out once again to his wife. Within seconds, he felt the familiar tingle in his mind that signaled her presence. 'I'm here, ai ren,' he heard as clearly as if she were physically in the cell with him.

He drew in a deep breath, concentrating on that slender thread of connection with every fiber of his being. Thinking a warning to her about the possibility of another Mal, he heard her reassurance. 'I know, ai ren. Hang on. I'm on my way.'

Mal felt the strength of her love washing over him like cool water in a desert. 'Sooner would be better than later', he thought, putting a smile into the sentiment. He could almost hear her soft laugh as he drifted into sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

"He's here," River said, pointing down at a star chart. Adam peered over her shoulder, nodding in agreement.

The Operative's jaw tightened. "There's only one place he could be on that world. And that's a maximum security prison," he said thinly. "The rest of the world is largely uninhabited."

Marcus nodded. "One of the most secluded prisons in the system in fact. Perfect place to make copies of folk, I conjure," he said wryly.

"But the seclusion might work to our advantage as well," the Operative said. "If the security system of the prison itself can be breeched, there are no other Federal stations anywhere close by. If we could seize control of the complex, no one would be coming to their aid for quite some hours."

"That's one helluva big 'if'," Jayne observed sagely.

Marcus nodded in agreement. "Murdocke is my security system expert. None of the rest of my crew knows enough about it to even begin to crack the codes."

"Kaylee knows her way around security systems," Zoe said quietly.

All eyes turned to Kaylee hopefully, making the mechanic blush. "I'll look at the layout. See what I can come up with," she said quietly.

The Operative nodded. "I'll put the engineer from my ship at your disposal as well, Mrs. Tam." Turning to look at Zoe and Marcus, he added, "I think it's safe to say that the most logical ship to take into this particular battle is the cruiser. It is quite possible that the appearance of an Alliance battle cruiser over the facility will create a certain amount of confusion that might prove useful to us."

Zoe and Marcus nodded their agreement. River said, "We're only four days away, assuming that your cruiser is capable maintaining the standard speed of all Alliance military vessels."

The Operative nodded. "It has been slightly modified. We'll make it there in three."

River smiled for the first time in what seemed to her like forever.

XXXXXXXXXX

Gerard Hill looked at the transmission with growing alarm. It had been longer than he could remember since he had felt that particular emotion and it was uncomfortable to say the least.

"Well?" Senator Michaels asked impatiently.

Hill, schooled in revealing nothing of his true thoughts, said, "There seems to be a slight problem."

Michaels' face suffused with anger. "What kind of 'slight problem'?" he asked.

"I was unable to contact our subject," Hill replied. "That, of itself, was not disturbing, as I knew that the Cortes had quite probably already destroyed Serenity and all its passengers. But, when I took the extra step of confirming the kill, I could not reach Commander Liang either." He looked at Senator Michaels with an outwardly calm expression. "So, I sent a small team out to investigate."

"And?"

"And I have just received word that they have discovered what appears to be the wreckage of the Cortes."

"How in nine hells did that happen?" Michaels thundered. "Gorram boat didn't even have a cannon mount on it, and you're telling me that somehow it managed to blow up an Alliance battle cruiser?"

"I am not telling you that," Hill replied thinly. "The team is currently sifting through the wreckage to see if there is any evidence of Serenity or the Hit or Miss in the wreckage. It could be that whatever happened out there took out all three ships."

"How soon will you know?" Michaels barked.

"The wreckage is scattered over quite a large area," Hill answered. "It might be several days before we know."

"But we'll have our answer before the designated time for the Independents to rendezvous, correct?" Michaels asked.

"Without doubt," Hill replied firmly.

"And you'll have time to get the new Reynolds in place?" the senator asked peevishly.

"We will make it a priority," Hill responded.

"See that you do," Michaels said, not at all happy with the chain of events. "You know as well as I do what the stakes are."

Hill inclined his head slightly, not deigning to reply when the answer was so obvious.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal awoke to the sound of his cell door opening. He sat up quickly, causing his head to spin. Peering into the near total darkness of his cell, he made out the shape of a man creeping toward him.

"Malcolm Reynolds?" the man whispered.

Mal squinted harder and replied, "Murdocke?"

"The very same," Murdocke said, coming closer.

"How'd you get out of your cell?" Mal asked.

Murdocke laughed softly. "Took me a few days to remember it, but I helped design this prison. Hypothetically of course. Was part of a project in Alliance engineering boot camp, you might say."

"You were in Alliance boot camp?" Mal asked, the thought doing nothing to alleviate his worry.

Murdocke shrugged. "Everybody's entitled to a mistake now and then," he said dryly. "Point is, I ain't now. Been on the other side for quite some time. Anyway, once I realized that the gorram head knockers had stolen my design, it was easy enough to break outta the cell. Problem is, it's gonna be a little harder getting out of the building entirely. Figured you might want to help."

Mal grinned. "Got nothing else to do," he said, getting up from the bed easily. "What you got in mind?"

"Well, the way I see it, we've got at least two big problems. We gotta get through the internal security systems without setting off any major alarms, and then we gotta get outta the gorram gate and find someplace to hide 'til we can figure how to contact Marcus."

"We get outside the gate, I don't think it will be a problem. My crew is on the way now," Mal said.

"And you know this how?" Murdocke asked. "A little fairy come and tell you this?"

Mal smiled, unaccountably happy to see the smart mouthed engineer. "Something like that," he said. "Though I gotta tell you, there's another problem."

"What?" Murdocke asked.

"Well, I've gotta make a stop somewhere in the facility to find someone," Mal said.

"Who?" Murdocke whispered. "Who could you possibly need to find? We've been on this floor by ourselves for days."

Mal grimaced. "Haven't got a lot of time to explain. But, we'd be looking for a man that looks just like me. We see him, we take him out. Dong ma?"

Murdocke let out a deep breath. "Like the guy on Serenity?" he asked. "You mean, there's another one?"

"At least one," Mal said, all the humor gone from his voice suddenly. "Don't know how many others."

Murdocke shuddered. "Sorta' creepifying to think of running into you every corner we turn."

"Yeah, well, imagine how I feel," Mal said dryly as they headed out into the corridor as quietly as they could.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jim sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Zoe sat down beside him. "What's the matter?" she asked softly.

Jim sighed. "Can't believe this whole thing got started on account of me getting a letter from the military," he said.

Zoe shook her head. "Started long before that. Must have been planned since well before BlueSun took Mal at the hospital on Osiris. Truth be told, I've been waiting ever since then for the other boot to drop, and now it has."

Jim's blue eyes gazed into her chocolate brown ones. "Whilst we're speaking truth, I can't say that I'm wild about being back on an Alliance battle cruiser either. Last time I was on one of these things, I helped destroy Shadow."

Zoe laid her hand gently on his thigh. "Ancient history at this point. Besides which, the man who did that ain't anywhere close to the man I married."

Jim smiled crookedly. "Wish that were entirely true," he said. Straightening his shoulders, he said, "So, when are we gonna contact the Independents and warn them not to go to the rendezvous point?"

"Not yet," Zoe said. "Talked about it with the Operative and Marcus. They're not sure that the people would listen to us. They were dealing with a man they thought was the Captain. If we tell them otherwise, what are the chances they'd believe us? They'd be just as apt to think we were Alliance spies as not."

"But we can't let them just go there without a warning," Jim protested.

"Plan is to get Mal out of that prison, and let him do the talking. It's a sure bet they'll agree to whatever he says, being as how they've already agreed to listen to him once."

"What if something happens and we don't get to Mal in time?" Jim asked.

"We'll just have to make sure nothing like that happens," Zoe replied grimly.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	22. Chapter 22

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXI—Complications**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Murdocke and Mal discover it's more difficult to escape than they had thought, and the battle cruiser gets to the prison for the big rescue.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Gorram it!" Murdocke muttered, trying unsuccessfully to breach the internal security code for the fiftieth time.

Mal looked down the corridor uneasily, expecting to see a troop of guards coming their way at any moment. "S'almost daylight," he whispered, leaning over Murdocke's bent form. "So, 'less you're fair certain you can break this thing in the next few minutes, I conjure we'd best go back to the cells and wait until after the bedcheck tonight."

Murdocke sat back on his heels, disgusted with the idea of spending another day in the dismal little cell. But, practicality won out over annoyance, and he nodded shortly. "Least I can think on it today. See if I can figure how they changed the original design," he said.

Mal smiled, knowing that the man had done the best he could. "Don't 'magine another day will kill either one of us…..if we're lucky, that is."

Murdocke snorted as he headed back to his cell. Turning to look at Mal one last time, he said, "Be ready. Sooner we can get started tonight, the better."

Mal nodded and stepped back into his cell, closing the door quietly behind him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Two days later, Mal and Murdocke were both at the end of their patience. Each night, they managed to get a little farther toward their freedom, but to Murdocke's annoyance, they discovered that every floor of the facility had a separate set of security codes. Though it made perfect sense in the event that one or more levels were breached, it did nothing to improve their chances of escape.

They had managed to get down to the fourth level of the prison, but still Mal had not seen the room into which he had been taken by the BlueSun employee. And they had seen no sign of a Mal clone either. Knowing there was no way he could leave the facility without tracking down his double, Mal was beginning to doubt the feasibility of Murdocke's escape attempt.

"When are your people going to be here?" Murdocke asked in utter frustration as they made their way silently back to their cells for the third time.

"Soon," Mal replied.

Murdocke turned to glare at him. "Think you could be a little more specific?" he asked snidely.

Mal's jaw tightened. "It ain't an exact science, you know, this talking to people with your brain. Not like waving someone. Dong ma?"

Murdocke flushed, but wisely refrained from giving a smart answer. "Yeah, okay," he said, clinking his door shut behind him. "Just getting a mite antsy, is all."

"You and me both," Mal replied, easing his door shut as well.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee felt more than a little uncomfortable as she walked into the large war room of the battle cruiser with her small data disks. Glancing at Simon for moral support, she saw him smile tightly and realized that he, too, was intimidated by their new surroundings. The Operative motioned her forward, and everyone gathered around the huge table to look at what she had found.

"Well," she began. "There's good news and bad news. The good news is that there is a central power source a few kilometers from the outside gate. If we can get to that, we can cut the power and circumvent the main security grid."

"And the bad news?" Zoe asked.

Kaylee's smile faltered. "The bad news is that each level of the prison has its own backup system. Best I can tell, there's only a very small window after we take out the main grid before the auxiliary controls kick in. Best way to get them out would be from the inside out, cracking each level's code as we go."

"And there is no central point for the auxiliary systems?" Marcus asked.

"Nope," Kaylee said.

The Operative looked at the small data disks Kaylee had laid out. "So then," he said. "The only thing to do is disable the main grid long enough to get a team into the prison, and then go level by level until we find them."

"Seventh level," River said suddenly. "They're on the seventh level."

"How many levels are there?" Jim asked.

"Seven," Kaylee replied glumly.

Marcus sighed. "So if we go in from the ground level, we gotta get through every gorram level there is before we can spring them."

"So, we go in from the air," Zoe said.

The Operative grimaced slightly. "In case you haven't noticed, a battle cruiser has considerably less maneuverability than Serenity. I'm not sure my pilot…"

"Have to take a shuttle," River said, seeing it all in her mind's eye. Turning to the Operative, she said, "If a small team takes the power grid out, and the battle cruiser disposes of the guard towers, a second team can take the shuttle in and land it on the roof."

"It would all have to be planned down to the second," Marcus said, seeing the possibility but doubtful of its execution.

"Can do that," River said, smiling.

She looked at Kaylee, who nodded in acknowledgement. "It's possible," the mechanic said. "But it'd all have to happen real fast like."

"Then I suggest we coordinate our efforts," the Operative said smoothly. "We'll be in orbit around the planet in less than an hour."

XXXXXXXXXX

Having dropped Bear, Kaylee and Zoe at the power grid minutes before, River and Pierre kept the shuttle out of range of the guard towers, awaiting the Operative's move. Jayne, sitting in the back of the shuttle, stroked Vera lovingly, prepared for imminent violence. The whole situation with Mal's double had made Jayne more than ready to fight, pent up frustration making him even more deadly than usual. Marcus sat beside him, re-checking his own weapons for the third time.

"Kaylee should be about done by now," Jayne muttered. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the prison below them went suddenly black.

Within seconds, the guard towers exploded, shards of glass and steel flying in all directions before raining down into the now darkened yard. The shuttle bucked forward as River manned the yoke. Flying under the shadow of the battle cruiser, she landed the shuttle quickly on the roof of the prison.

As he jumped out of the shuttle, Jayne could hear the confusion below them, as prisoners realized that their cell doors would open and guards tried to maintain order. Grinning, he ran forward, spotting an entrance at the far corner of the roof.

Marcus ran behind him, pulling a small package of explosives from his pocket. Jayne tried the door first. A man never knew when he might get lucky, after all. Shaking his head, he stepped back, allowing Marcus to place the explosives where they were needed.

Backing to the other end of the roof, they watched in satisfaction as the door blew off its hinges to hang in tatters. Then, moving down the narrow stairway, they headed toward the seventh level. Halfway there, the lights came back on and Marcus cursed. "Gorram back up system's already up," he hissed.

Moving out carefully into the corridor, Jayne and Marcus went to the left, and Pierre and River to the right. "Gonna have to shoot the locks off the doors," Jayne said.

"And draw the whole gorram guard detail up here," Marcus added.

Coming to the first cell, Jayne peered in. "It's empty," he said.

Each cell they came to was empty. Meeting River and Pierre back in the center of the corridor, they found that the same had been true on both ends of the corridor.

"Thought you said Mal's cell was up here," Jayne said, scowling at River.

"It is," she replied. "Third door to the left. But he's not there."

"Well, where the hell else could he be?" Pierre asked, exasperated.

"Mebbe he got out when the system was shut down," Jayne said.

"In which case we got exactly no idea how to track him down…other than you," Marcus said, looking hopefully at River.

River nodded. "This way," she said, walking with purpose to the corridor exit.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having made their way down to the third level of the prison, Mal motioned Murdocke forward quietly. "This is the place," he said, pointing to a closed door at the end of the hallway.

"There's somebody in there," Murdocke said. "At least, I think there is. The light's on."

Mal looked around quickly for some kind of weapon, but nothing sprang out at him as a viable choice. "How good are you at distraction?" he asked.

Murdocke frowned. "If you think I'm gonna stand around here and be bait for this creepifying Mal-thing, you're sadly mistaken."

"Would you rather go back to your cell?" Mal asked, his voice silky smooth.

Murdocke scowled at him for a long moment. "All right, all right. What do you want me to do?"

Mal grinned. "At my signal, go knock on the door."

"Just like that?" Murdocke said. "You want me to just go up and knock on that door? You know they're apt as not to just shoot me through the gorram thing."

"Chance I'm willing to take," Mal said shortly. "If you hear a gun being cocked, step away from the door. Easy-peasy."

Murdocke snorted, but walked toward the door. Mal stood directly to the side of the door, his back pressed against the wall. Nodding, he gave Murdocke the signal.

Taking a deep breath, Murdocke knocked on the door and quickly stepped away. The door opened, and the BlueSun employee stepped out. Peering out into the corridor, he did not see Mal until it was too late. Mal stepped forward, wrapping his arm quickly around the man's throat and squeezing for all he was worth. The man's feet kicked outward, trying to find purchase on the floor, but Mal lifted him up, cutting off his air supply until the man went limp in his arms.

Mal dropped him and stepped into the brightly lit room, Murdocke following behind. The room was empty. Cursing, Mal ran to the small door from which the clone had emerged before and tried to open it. "Gorram thing's locked," he growled.

Murdocke pushed him aside and knelt at the doorknob, producing a small pin. "Give me a minute," he said.

Mal waited, his fists clinching and unclinching at his sides. After a tense minute, the door opened with a satisfying snick. Murdocke turned to smile at Mal triumphantly. Before he could accomplish it, he was jerked backward into the room, his throat constricted terribly by the steel arm of the man who held him.

Mal advanced into the room. "Let him go," he said, his voice ominously calm.

The clone smiled. "Don't think so," he said. "Wouldn't be in my best interests."

"Way I see it," Mal replied. "You don't have any 'best interests'. You're nothing but a copy."

"Are you sure?" the clone asked lightly. "Could be that you're the copy and I'm the original."

Mal shook his head. "No chance of that. 'Cause there's no way the original me would ever be working with those hundans at BlueSun."

Murdocke twisted, trying to break free of the stifling grip. Tightening his hold, the clone tugged viciously, lifting the shorter man off his feet. "Believe that this is what you did to my colleague, correct?" he asked Mal, his blue eyes glittering malevolently.

"You got no use for him," Mal said savagely. "It's me you're gonna have to take out. 'Verse ain't big enough for two of us."

"My thought exactly," the clone said, pulling a gun from his pocket and pressing it to Murdocke's temple. "Now, how do you suppose we solve our little problem?" he asked, smiling.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	23. Chapter 23

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXII—Passengers**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal and Murdocke work together to handle the clone, and the other prisoners create a bit of an obstacle.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Did you hear that?" Bear whispered to Zoe.

"Sounds like four or five," Zoe replied, pulling her Mare's leg from her side.

Zoe could barely see Bear's nod in the darkness of the night. "S'what I figured too," he confirmed. "You want the left?"

Zoe nodded, and Bear pulled Kaylee behind him. "Stay behind me, Miss Kaylee. This shouldn't take long."

Kaylee nodded mutely, her eyes wide with fright as she peered over Bear's shoulder to see a small group of Alliance soldiers approaching them.

"They must have been sent out to check out the power outage," Zoe said quietly. "Which ain't good, considerin' that I was hoping there would be enough confusion in the prison to keep 'em busy."

"Maybe they got sent out before the go se hit the fan," Bear murmured, sighting the first of the soldiers through his weapon.

"That there's a real optimistic thought," Zoe said wryly, as Bear picked off the first man. Firing her Mare's leg, she took the second two, dropping them before they could see exactly where their enemies were in the darkened area. Kaylee gasped, dropping to her knees as Bear took out the fourth man. "Two more'n we thought," he said, watching the three men left fan out to make themselves less of a target.

"I see them," Zoe replied, as Bear's weapon fired in unison with hers. Two of the three men dropped, and the third man whipped behind a tree for cover.

Bear looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "You, or me?" he asked.

Zoe slipped forward silently toward the tree, answering Bear without a word.

XXXXXXXXXX

Murdocke's eyes widened as the clone ground the barrel of the gun into his temple cruelly. Knowing better than to try to struggle at this point, he stilled, hoping to all that was holy that Mal had a plan.

Mal stared at the clone, trying to ignore the fact that he was looking at a mirror image of himself. Apparently tiring of the impasse, the clone pulled the trigger. Mal leaped forward with a fierce roar, toppling both Murdocke and the clone to the floor.

Murdocke blinked rapidly, puzzling over why he was not dead yet. The clone, wondering the same thing, spared a moment to look at Murdocke in shock, thereby giving Mal the time he needed to wrestle him into a semi-hold. "Didn't think your BlueSun handler would actually leave a loaded gun with his little trained ape, did you?" Mal said, smiling.

Murdocke scrambled to his feet, grabbing the empty gun more as a reflex than anything else. The clone bucked against Mal, almost toppling him over. "Little help over here," Mal ground out. Fighting a man exactly his weight and height with exactly his thought processes was proving to be more taxing than he cared to admit. Murdocke looked around quickly for anything to use. "The tray," Mal said, gasping for air as the clone rolled him over and placed his knee against Mal's throat.

Murdocke ran back into the other room, looking for the tray of instruments. Spying a wicked looking scalpel, he grabbed it up and hurried back into the other room. Mal and the clone were battling for dominance, rolling from side to side until Marcus could barely tell them apart. Mal, seeing the scalpel in Murdocke's hand, allowed the clone to roll him onto his back once more. Murdocke stepped forward, quickly plunging the scalpel into the side of the clone's neck.

Jerking upright with the violence of the blow, the clone's hands relaxed their grip on Mal's neck briefly. But it was enough. Clawing at the scalpel, the clone fell backward as Mal pushed away from him, winded. Murdocke held out his hand and Mal took it, levering himself up with the engineer's help. "Thanks," he said, looking down at the clone as he lay on the floor in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.

Murdocke nodded, wiping his hands on his coveralls. "Any time," he said, though his voice was hoarse.

There was a large noise just outside the door, and both men whirled around, their hearts in their throats. Jayne burst into the room, followed by Marcus, Pierre and River. Looking around at the scene, Jayne said, "So, guess we're a little late to this party."

Mal rolled his eyes. "'Spect there's still plenty of fun to be had. Got two more levels to get through 'fore we can get out, and a pile of guards and prisoners between us and the door."

"Don't have to go through the front door," River said, drinking in the sight of her husband. "Got a ride on the roof."

"That so?" Mal said, smiling.

"It is," she said. "Time to go."

"Truer words were never spoken," Murdocke said, regaining some of his cocky attitude as they filed out into the corridor and made their way back up the stairs.

"How'd you get involved in all this?" Mal asked, dropping back to walk beside Marcus.

"Long story," Marcus said. "And none too pretty. Any idea how many of you there are?"

Mal shook his head grimly. "No clue," he said. "But I'd feel a lot better about it if we had some way to blow that lab we were just in."

Marcus nodded. "Problem with that is…"

He was interrupted as they rounded the corner and were met by a mob of very angry, dismayingly well-armed prisoners. Jayne raised his weapon, but Mal stopped him. "Wait," he said, knowing that it was quite likely at least some of his people would be killed if they had to fight their way through the mob. Stepping out in front of the others, he held up his hands. "Wait," he said. "Look at me. It's fair obvious I'm one of you."

"Ain't seen you in the yard," one man yelled from somewhere close to the back of the crowd, making the whole lot of them murmur in agreement.

Mal nodded. "I was on the seventh floor, in solitary. Where are the guards from this level?"

A behemoth of a man stepped forward. Mal fought the impulse to back up. "Dead," the man said menacingly. "Like you're apt to be in a minute."

"Let's not get all tetchy," Mal said, not daring to blink. "Listen, it's like this. We all need to get out of here, before the Alliance sends re-enforcements."

"Gorram purplebellies already have," someone from the crowd said. "There's a battle cruiser hovering over the prison yard right now."

"It's ours," River said softly at Mal's shoulder. He looked at her in surprise. "Another long story," she said, smiling.

Mal cleared his throat and turned back to face the mob of prisoners. "Battle cruiser won't be a problem," he said, with all the authority he could muster. Turning back to River, he asked out of the corner of his mouth, "It capable of blowing this whole place?"

"Absolutely," River said.

Mal grinned. Addressing the crowd, he said, "Best we be getting as far away from this building as possible. Cruiser's guns are poised to take it out soon's we're clear."

"Why should we believe you?" the huge man who seemed to be the leader of the prisoners asked.

Mal shrugged. "Can choose to believe me or not," he replied. "But either way, you got a real need to stay here in this place? 'Cause if you don't, now's the time to fight our way out, when the guards on all the levels are bound to be a mite busy with their own folk. "

The man stared at him for a long moment, and Mal held his gaze steadily. He could feel Jayne, tensed behind his back, ready should the decision go the wrong way. Peripherally, he could see Marcus and Pierre, their own hands hanging very close to their weapons. And River stood at his side, her body coiled tight as a spring, ready for any eventuality. Even Murdocke, weaponless as he was, seemed more than ready to jump into the fray.

"All right," the large man said finally. "We'll fight our way out. But you should know that there's nothing beyond the gates but badly terraformed land. No way to live out there for long."

"Could give them a ride," Marcus said so softly only Mal could hear. "Cruiser's not fully manned. Plenty of room."

Mal nodded almost imperceptibly. "There will be transportation," he said. "We get out, we'll all get off this planet. Dong ma?"

Staring at him for a moment more, the large man nodded slowly. "Holding you to that," he said.

Mal nodded and the crowd parted to let them pass.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee stepped into Simon's arms on shaky knees. "Thought we was done for," she whispered, clinging tightly to him before she remembered his recent wound. Feeling him tense slightly beneath her hands, she released her hard hold and simply leaned into his warmth. "There was seven of them."

"And?" the Operative asked, interrupting the moment of marital intimacy.

Bear grunted. "And now they're gone," he said, stepping out of the shuttle.

"And thanks, by the way, for sending another shuttle," Zoe said, stepping out behind him. "What's happened to the Captain?"

"They're on their way out now," the Operative said. "And I am given to understand that they're bringing guests with them."

Zoe raised one eloquent eyebrow. "The prisoners are coming with us," Jim supplied. "Apparently, Mal had to strike some kind of deal with them to get through."

Zoe nodded, taking the news in stride as she always did. "How many?"

"That's still rather…fluid," the Operative said. "There is still a large contingent of guards on the various levels. Though the prisoners outnumber them somewhat, the guards are armed and, most assuredly, at least some of them have body armor."

"We need to go back down there?" Bear asked.

"I don't believe so," the Operative said. "Your Captain and Captain Reynolds seem to have the situation well in hand. I expect to hear from them at any…."

"Sir," one of the people manning the cruiser's deck said, interrupting the Operative in mid-sentence. "I think you should see this."

Everyone turned, looking at the screen the man had activated. The Operative's lips curved upward slightly. "I believe that would be them now," he said, as a wildly riotous assortment of men poured out into the prison yard.

Jim whistled. "That's a lot of people," he said.

"Was one of the largest prisons built by the Alliance," the Operative said, nodding. "I'm quite impressed that it could be breached so easily. Such a thing gives a man genuine hope."

"Question is, how are we gonna get all those people on this ship?" Bear asked.

"Perhaps we won't have to take them far," the Operative said.

"Still, that's quite a lot to organize," Jim said a little doubtfully.

"Then it a provident thing that I have you here to help me do it," the Operative replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Organizing the escaping prisoners into manageable groups, Mal and Marcus oversaw their transport to the battle cruiser. Once the last of the prisoners was aboard and under the watchful eyes of Bear, Jayne, Jim, Zoe, and Pierre, Mal and Marcus caught the final shuttle for the cruiser, leaving the prison yard empty.

"How many guards you think are still alive down there?" Marcus asked, looking through the transparency.

"Not many," Mal said. "Maybehaps a few who hid well enough. This lot of prisoners didn't strike me as being all that forgiving."

"Can't say I blame them," Marcus said. "Though I must admit that giving them safe passage to some other inhabited world makes me a mite uneasy."

"Less uneasy than killing them would have made you though, right?" Mal asked, looking at his friend. "Am I wrong in thinking that when I was talking about blowing the place, killing the prisoners was gonna be your objection?"

Marcus smiled, a faint flush rising to his cheeks. "Well, there was no way of knowing how many of them are real criminals, and how many of them have just been caught up in the Alliance's web."

"True enough," Mal said. "Hard to find a decent solution when things don't go smooth-like."

"Which is pretty much all the time," Marcus replied, grinning and thinking how good it was to be talking to Mal, the real Mal, once again.

"Speaking of which," Mal said. "How about starting that long story? How the di yu did you get involved in all this?"

"Well, I went to get Elizabeth some chocolate," Marcus began, stretching out his long legs and leaning back to tell the tale.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	24. Chapter 24

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXIII—Plotting and Possibly Scheming**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal hears the whole story, and makes a decisive choice.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Everyone onboard?" Mal asked, striding onto the bridge of the battle cruiser like it was nothing unusual.

The Operative nodded. "Four hundred and eighty-three prisoners, the crew of the Hit or Miss, and, of course, your crew."

Mal smiled. "Gotta say, you've got some kind of good timing, my friend."

"It looked as though I might be needed," the Operative said blandly. "Though I have to admit that breaking you out of Alliance maximum security prisons is beginning to be a bit…bothersome."

"I'll see what I can do to prevent it from happening again," Mal said wryly, looking out the transparency at the prison yard below. "You got firepower to blow it?"

"Most assuredly," the Operative replied. "At the touch of a button." He paused, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Would you like to do the honors?" he asked, as he pointed to the button in question.

"Think I would at that," Mal said, pushing the button without hesitation. Watching the building go up in a satisfyingly destructive explosion, he said, "Handy button."

"Yes, it is," the Operative said simply.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having finally pieced together all the separate parts of the story from everyone involved, Mal sat back in his chair and said nothing for a long time. He could feel the weight of all the eyes in the room like a physical force against his skin. And more alarmingly, he could feel another force gaining momentum deep down in a place he'd long thought locked away forever.

"Captain?" Zoe asked, breaking the increasingly oppressive silence.

Mal drew a deep breath and met her eyes, seeing in them the stirrings of the same force. They sat, caught for just a second in the shared understanding of what had been and what was to be. Then, shaking free of the moment, Mal turned to River.

"So, how many are headed to the rendezvous point, as far as you know?" he asked.

"Over a hundred, according to what your….double told me," River said. "Perhaps more."

Mal nodded, running his hands distractedly through his hair. "And they'll all be there in a little less than a week."

River nodded silently, her mind reaching lightly into his as she considered the variables of the situation.

Turning to the Operative, Mal asked, "Just out of curiosity, how many of these cruisers do you have at your disposal?"

The Operative replied unhesitatingly, "Twenty-seven, at last count." He paused. "However, there is always the possibility of acquiring more, if needed."

Mal leaned forward, resting his arms on the large conference table and looking carefully at the people seated there with him. "Seems to me the other me may have been right about one thing," he said slowly, his voice low and serious. "Can't imagine they're gonna stop coming after us unless we do something to stop them. And I can't say I'm wildly thrilled with the thought of copies of me coming off some gorram Alliance production line."

The Operative leaned forward as well, mirroring Mal's posture from the other end of the long table. "Stopping them will require nothing less than a full-scale war. And the destruction of the BlueSun Corporation as well. It is, admittedly, a tall order."

Mal looked at him intently. "Seems I recall you were ready to do this some time ago, with somewhat disastrous results."

"True," the Operative acknowledged with a slight inclination of his head. "But an earlier failure does not negate the need to continue with the effort, does it?"

Mal looked at Marcus. "You weren't with us for the first try at this," he said. "How do you stand?"

Marcus looked at his crew one by one, seeing in their expressions a willingness to follow his lead. "You think this thing has a real chance of success?" he asked softly. "Having been in one war, you would know more about that than me."

Mal gazed at the younger man grimly. "A better chance now than before, I conjure," he said. "Though, in all honesty, at best it's a gorram long shot."

"And at worst, certain death," Marcus said, a small smile curving his lips.

"Something like that," Mal replied, with an answering smile.

"Would stand a better chance with us than without us, I'm thinking," Marcus said.

"It's a pure truth," Mal replied, intent on Marcus' face.

"Well then, that being the case, we stand with you," Marcus said quietly as the rest of the Hit or Miss crew nodded solemnly.

Mal looked at the faces of his own crew. Zoe nodded, knowing she need say nothing.

Jim smiled slightly. "Guess I was just destined to be fighting on one side of this thing or the other," he said. "Think I'll choose this side."

Kaylee's eyes were wide and suspiciously bright. "If'n you think it's the way to go, Capt'n, you know we'll follow you," she said as River laid her hand lightly over Mal's on the table.

"Reckon it's time to take care of it once and for all," Jayne growled.

"This won't be like Miranda," Mal said by way of a caution. "It ain't gonna be just one mission. It's like to be a gorram long time 'fore we can topple the whole house of cards. So, if you don't cotton to that notion, I got no problem with it. But, I'm going to use what little advantage we've got, and see if this is a thing can be done."

When the others all voiced their assent, Mal continued, "First thing we gotta do is contact all those folks headed to the rendezvous point and let them know there's been a change of plans. We need another place to meet, and it needs to be far enough away that the Alliance don't just happen onto it. Any suggestions?"

XXXXXXXXXX

"Are you all right, ai ren?" River asked, placing her hands lightly on Mal's tensed shoulders.

"Can't say I am," he replied as he pulled her around to sit on his lap. "Ain't every day a man finds out he's been…copied."

"Didn't sleep with him, you know," River whispered. "Knew something was not right from the beginning. Just couldn't piece it together until later." She smiled softly as she felt the flare of relief in her husband's mind.

"Guess you think it's frivolous to be thinkin' on that now of all times, when we've just basically decided to start a war with the Alliance," he said, slightly embarrassed.

"Adam knew too," she continued. "And even Hannah, I think."

Mal frowned. "You think Hannah is…?" he began.

"No," River said firmly. "Not a reader. Just a Daddy's girl."

Mal smiled, pulling River closer to him still. "Missed you, bao bei," he whispered against her ear.

Her small purr of contentment was the last sound between them for some time.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Way I see it," Marcus said. "The best course of action is to conscript the prisoners into our army, if we can. None of them are too happy with the Alliance at the moment, and they all seem to know how to use a weapon."

Jayne snorted. "Less'n they decide to use them on us instead."

"Well, it's not like we have to arm them while they're onboard this cruiser," Mal replied smoothly. "Could wait until we're on the ground." Turning to Marcus, he said, "Go talk to them. Tell them what's what. If they want to join up, tell them we'll be glad to have them."

Marcus nodded. "No problem."

"I've been thinking about how to go about this thing," Mal said, glancing up at the Operative. "Seems that you've had a measure of success in getting some of the truth publicized before. And since we can't use a single media source like Mr. Universe used to be, I conjure we'll need to cultivate a solid community of reporters and such to help stir the pot. Only way we're gonna get the people on the Core worlds to rise up is to get the word out to them so's they know what the Alliance is really capable of."

"That might be more difficult than it seems," Simon observed, scratching the healing wound on his chest absently. "I know from experience it is difficult to convince Core-bred people that there is such a malevolent underbelly to the Alliance. Even the most intelligent of people seem somewhat blind to it."

"Then, we'll have to be sure they can see clearly," Mal replied. "The Miranda Wave weakened the Alliance, at least for awhile, because folks could sense that what they were seeing was the unvarnished truth. Just gotta make them see it again, and again, until it sinks in."

"So, we wage a war in the media," the Operative said. "What else?"

Mal sucked in a deep breath. "I'm thinking that we need to fight this war on a different front. Not on the Rim worlds, where the last war devastated so many of the Independent strongholds. We need to fight this war on the Core worlds."

The Operative raised one eloquent eyebrow. "That is easier said than done."

"Is it?" Mal asked, warming to the subject. "We've all seen how the Alliance is increasing its presence along the trade routes and on the Rim worlds. They expect us to fight there if we're going to fight. Why not strike at the heart of the beast while they're occupied elsewhere?"

"Once one Core world was hit, the troops would be called back from the Rim worlds immediately," Marcus pointed out.

"That's why we'd need to organize a simultaneous strike against several of the Core worlds at once," Mal said. "The way I see it, we'll only get one shot at this. Either the Core worlds fall fast, or we end up losing everything in a hurry."

"How exactly do you propose to bring down the Core worlds?" Jim asked.

"Not in ground combat," Mal said. "Can't see how we could get enough ground troops transported to do any good. Way I see it, we need to send specialized units down to the Core worlds chosen. Let them take out key structures, power grids, Fed stations, anything to create a reaction among a dissatisfied public. Combined with the power of the press, could be that we'll find more Independent sympathizers than we think on those worlds. If the Alliance has to fight homegrown dissidents on the Core worlds as well as Independents from the Rim worlds, they will eventually be stretched too thin. Once that happens, what forces of ours are left can clean up the whole mess."

"That is an ambitious plan," the Operative said. "Audacious, even."

"Well, it has the virtue of being different," Mal said dryly.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You think it can work?" Jim asked Zoe privately after they left Mal's briefing.

"Possibly," Zoe said blandly. "I'd say it depends on whether the Core folk can be convinced that it's in their best interests to turn on their government."

Jim thought about it for a long moment. "I was convinced, when I saw what they were capable of, long before the Miranda Wave. No reason to believe that decent folk anywhere, Core world or Rim, would want to support a government that kills entire populations with Pax, or clones a man without his knowledge or consent, or cuts into the brain of a young girl and turns her into a psychotic killer woman, or…" His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Or destroys a whole world like Shadow."

Zoe sighed, slipping into the bunk. "You would think any one of those things would be enough," she said. "But taken all together…"

"That's just it," Jim said, sitting up in bed. "They haven't ever been taken all together, at least not by the general public. Each of those events has been reported, to a greater or lesser degree, but always individually, never as part of a bigger picture."

"Because the Alliance has always controlled the flow of information," Zoe said.

Jim lay back down beside his wife. "I hope the Operative knows enough journalists in enough places to get the story told. Couldn't help but be a boost to the fight."

"Maybe the first thing we should take out on every Core world is the Cortex," Zoe said.

"Not a bad idea, come to think of it," Jim said, pulling her close to share her warmth.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What'll we do with Daniel, and the other children, when this thing starts?" Kaylee whispered in the dark.

Simon shifted beside her, causing her to roll closer to him. "We'll find a place, a safe place somewhere."

"Can't ask my folks," Kaylee said. "Alliance came looking for the children there once already. When I got Daddy's wave, he said they stayed around the house for days, sniffing into this and that. Mama and Daddy couldn't even go home for a week."

"But they got home safely," Simon said soothingly. "And the children were safe as well."

"But what if the purplebellies go back to Harvest for my folks?" Kaylee asked, her voice trembling with worry.

"I'll talk to Mal. I'm sure we can find someway to keep them all safe," Simon murmured against her hair.

Kaylee said nothing, hoping with all her heart that Simon was right.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	25. Chapter 25

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXIV—Working Out the Details**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Hill and Michaels have a talk, and Mal and crew go back to Serenity.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hill sat across the desk from Senator Michaels, his mouth set in a thin line. "It would appear that Serenity nor the Hit or Miss was destroyed in whatever happened to the Cortes," he said, the words bitter in his mouth.

"As I suspected," Michaels replied waspishly. "Not only did Liang fail to complete his mission, but it would seem that somehow Malcolm Reynolds has managed to escape from a maximum security prison. And not just escape, mind you, but free all the prisoners and blow the gorram place into the Black." As he spoke, his words became louder and louder until they reverberated in the office. "What do you have to say about that?"

"I believe it is safe to assume that the two things are indeed related," Hill replied thinly. He could not remember the last time he had allowed anyone to speak to him so rudely. But he realized that the Senator was under a great deal of stress, unused to handling these matters in anything other than a ham-fisted manner, so he held his own temper.

"You think?" the Senator roared. "And just what do you propose to do to bring the situation back under control?"

Hill restrained himself from pointing out that it was the military that had allowed the two ships to escape, and the military that had allowed their prison to be breeched. "We will, of course, go to the prison. See if anything is salvageable. It is possible that some of the backups might have escaped unharmed."

"My reports indicate that no one was left there alive," Michaels growled.

Hill smiled. "Knowing the subject as I have come to, I would assume that the backups would not simply present themselves in plain sight to any armed forces, even those of the Alliance."

"If Reynolds is alive and able to get to the rebels to warn them, we will have wasted the time and resources of this administration in a grievous way. This…failure….is not to be tolerated. Any and every effort should be made immediately to contain the situation. Are we clear?"

Hill nodded, wondering if the fool thought he had not already begun to set things in motion to do just that. "We are indeed clear, Senator."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mal, can I talk to you for a minute?" Simon asked, leaning in the doorway of Mal's temporary quarters.

"Got just about a minute to spare," Mal replied. "Operative says we'll be in atmo over Serenity in a few minutes."

Simon nodded. "It will be good to get back home," he said, thinking fleetingly that once upon a time he would never have thought an old Firefly could be home to him.

"So, what's on your mind?" Mal prompted.

"The children," Simon replied. "We haven't come up with a decent place to leave the children. And the thought of taking them with us when it's almost certain to….." He paused delicately.

"Be suicide?" Mal finished, smiling wryly.

Simon blushed. "Well, I wasn't going to say it like that, exactly. But it is something to consider."

Mal nodded. "As I understand it, the Fryes are already in danger for harboring them once," he said seriously. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to Kaylee's folks. They've done a lot for us over the years." He thought of the little cabin on the Frye's land where he and River had stayed when they'd lost Sam. He swallowed thickly, the memory still having the power to stop him cold.

"Yes, they certainly have," Simon said, barely catching Mal's stricken look before it vanished. "And I wouldn't want anything to happen to them either."

"Way I see it, we need to persuade the Fryes to leave Harvest for awhile, at least until this thing is done," Mal said. "Though I imagine it will be easier said than done."

"Perhaps if we can persuade them that they are needed elsewhere…" Simon suggested. "If we could find a place where they could stay and tell them that we need them to keep the children safe."

"I take it you've thought about a place?" Mal asked.

Simon cleared his throat nervously. "Well, I have, though I'm not certain you will like the idea."

"Go on," Mal replied. "Let's hear it."

"The children have another set of grandparents," Simon said. "My parents. And they have a certain amount of …leeway with their finances."

Mal smiled. "Is that your way of saying that they have cashy money to spare?"

Simon blushed again, and Mal wondered with a bit of amusement just how old the man would have to be to avoid that particular reaction. "Yes, I suppose it is," Simon admitted. "You've said that you intend to target Core worlds. Though my parents and I have had our differences in the past, I do not want them to be in a war zone. Suppose that they could be persuaded to find a temporary home somewhere suitable. It would solve several problems. They would be out of the hot zone, and we could tell the Fryes privately that we need them to help my parents with the children, as they are not used to handling so many little ones at once. The Fryes are safe, my parents are safe, and the children have two sets of grandparents to see to their safety as well. With my father's money, and Mr. Frye's common sense, surely they would be all right."

Mal smiled. "And you think you can convince your folks and Kaylee's to live together somewhere and do this?"

Simon sighed, rubbing the sore spot on his chest absently. "If it can be phrased just so," he said. "If they understand the potential danger."

"If you want it phrased right, best you let Kaylee do the talking," Mal said, grinning. "Phrasing things right ain't exactly your strong suit."

"Perhaps you're right," Simon said, conceding the point.

"Been meaning to tell you," Mal said more gently. "I heard what you did to get Jim outta the outpost prison. It was a brave thing, and I'm obliged to you for it."

"Least I could do," Simon said.

"Takin' a bullet ain't ever the least a man can do," Mal replied. After a minute, he added, "You get the Fryes and the Tams to agree, and we'll provide the transportation. Good enough?"

Simon nodded gratefully and hurried away to tell Kaylee the news.

XXXXXXXXXX

"My source indicates that Reynolds has already contacted the rebels," Hill said calmly. "A new rendezvous point has been named."

Michaels nodded, pleased to hear that things were coming together once again. "Leave the coordinates and my people will be ready for them."

Hill nodded. "Excellent. I am also pleased to report that there were backups found at the prison. Some were damaged beyond repair, but there were two that were viable."

"Can they be ready by the rendezvous time?" Michaels asked.

Hill frowned slightly. "It is unlikely," he said. "At least not ready to the degree of the first ones. However, there may be a use for them even so. We will begin with them at once."

"Good," Michaels said.

Hill rose to leave. "And Senator Michaels," he said blandly. "It might be in the best interests of the project if this particular information did not become common knowledge among the members of the Oversight Committee."

"I have said nothing beyond the bare minimum to the Committee since Reynolds' escape," Michaels said calmly. "I saw no need to create a general panic."

Hill nodded. "That was most wise."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal sat on the bridge of Serenity, watching the battle cruiser and the Hit or Miss traveling along similar paths toward the rendezvous point. Thinking that there was nothing so comforting as sitting on his own bridge again, he heard the patter of small steps behind him. Turning in his chair, he smiled when Adam and Hannah came into view, shadowed by River.

Hannah held up her tiny arms and Mal picked her up immediately, swinging her in midair for a moment until she squealed with delight. Setting her on one hip, he gestured to Adam to climb up onto his lap as well. "Well, little fella'," he said, hugging his son close. "I heard tell it was you who knew that thing wasn't me."

Adam grinned, basking in the warmth of his father's pride. "Knew it couldn't be you, Daddy," he said.

"Glad to be home?" Mal asked.

"Yep," Adam replied. "You?"

"Yep," Mal said. Hannah wiggled impatiently for his attention. "You glad to be home too, little girl?"

"Yep," she said, grinning toothlessly as she mimicked her older brother.

Mal sighed, content for just that moment with his children on his knees. Having held back to let the children have the time with their father, River stepped forward, resting her hands on Mal's shoulders and looking out at the cruiser and the Hit or Miss in the distance.

"Simon told me the plan," she said softly.

"Think he can persuade them?" Mal asked.

"With help," River replied, a smile in her voice.

"Think it will be the right thing to do?" Mal asked.

River heard the real import of the question in her mind rather than her ears. "Safest option I can think of," she said honestly. "Too many variables to know for certain."

Mal nodded. "Guess that's usually the way of it," he said, his arms tightening slightly around their children.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus stood just outside the infirmary of the Hit or Miss, watching Elizabeth rummaging through the supply cabinets muttering darkly to herself. "Anything I can help you find?" he asked.

Elizabeth jumped and blushed scarlet. "I didn't know you were there," she said quickly.

"Figured I'd come and find you when you didn't come to bed," Marcus replied. "Wondered what had happened."

"I have work to do," Elizabeth said a little stiffly.

"What kind of work?" he pressed.

Elizabeth straightened her back defensively. "I need to make a supply list," she said finally. "If you're intent on starting a war, I imagine we'll be needing quite a few more medical supplies." She silently cursed her voice for trembling slightly.

Beginning to understand the problem, Marcus gathered her up into his arms, though she remained rigid there. "Didn't intend to start a war, darlin', but whether we're involved or not, there's gonna be one. And I conjure it would overtake us soon enough anyway. Don't see as it will be any safer for a crew like ours on the sidelines as right in the middle of it. Won't be sidelines to stand on after it starts anyway."

He felt the shudder that went through her body and held her more tightly to him. "You want to get out now, I'll take you wherever you want to go," he said softly. "Truth be told, I got no great wish to see you involved in all this."

Burying her face into his chest, she said, "Don't want to leave you. What if you were hurt? If I weren't here, who would patch you back up?"

"Don't worry about me, darlin'," Marcus whispered into her hair. "I ain't plannin' to get hurt."

Elizabeth looked up at him with worried eyes. "You never plan to get hurt. But it happens with startling regularity." A hint of a smile curved her lips.

"Happens to the best of us," Marcus said, smiling in return as he felt the tension easing from her shoulders. "But the offer stands. I'll take you where you want to go and let you sit this whole thing out, if that's your wish."

Elizabeth sighed, feeling the reassuring best of his heart against her cheek. "Don't think I could bear to be somewhere else, waiting and worrying. Not knowing what was happening. Not….being with you."

"Then we'll just have to see that we don't get ourselves corpsified when this thing starts," Marcus said gently.

"Sounds like a plan," Elizabeth replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	26. Chapter 26

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXV—Shadow Play**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Tams and Fryes unite, and Hill tries to turn the tide.

XXXXXXXXXX

"This is most surely the prettiest place I ever saw," Mrs. Frye said in a hushed tone to her husband as Serenity's lowering ramp revealed the lush, green grass of a secluded valley on Sihnon.

"Soil looks to be mighty fine," Mr. Frye agreed, squinting into the sunlight.

"We won't be here long enough to worry about the soil," she scolded, though there was genuine love and affection in her tone. "Just 'til this thing blows over."

He turned to look at her, worry wrinkling his brow. "We don't know how long we'll be here, hon," he said gently. "Good a man as Captain Reynolds is, he ain't able to take down the Alliance in a day or two. And those children will be needin' us 'til everything's settled proper."

She nodded, swallowing the thick lump that rose in her throat at the thought of what her child was headed into. "And we'll be here 'til that time comes," she said stoutly.

Mal cleared his throat, making his presence known. "The Tams have secured a cottage somewhere beyond that line of trees," he said, pointing to the horizon. "Best we be heading there before it gets dark. Get everyone settled in and the like."

Mrs. Frye nodded and swept Daniel up into her arms. "Hear that, little man?" she said. "We get to go on a hike."

XXXXXXXXXX

Regan Tam hurried around the little cottage, checking and re-checking every room to see that everything was in order. "How many times are you going to walk the house?" Gabriel asked, turning from the window to observe his wife's nervous pacing.

Regan raised one eyebrow. "Until I'm satisfied that we haven't neglected anything," she said. "They'll be here any time, and I want to make a decent impression."

"I suspect that you will have no trouble doing that," Gabriel said, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "You've met Kaylee. Her parents are sure to be wonderful people."

Regan took a deep breath. "What do you suppose she's told them about us?" she asked, wringing her hands. "I mean, about what we let happen to River."

"Kaylee doesn't strike me as the kind of young woman who would be eager to discuss the faults of her in-laws," he said. "And the mere fact that the Fryes are coming to stay here with us willingly indicates that they do not harbor any ill feelings toward us."

Regan reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair back into place. "Still," she said hesitantly. "I will admit to being a little concerned about the whole arrangement."

"Well, I'd say it's too late to back out now," Gabriel said, turning back to the window. "I saw Serenity land a few minutes ago."

XXXXXXXXXX

"You want us to divert again?" Monty asked, staring at the image of Mal on the Cortex screen. "But why?"

"Can't answer that just now," he said a little impatiently. "Just trust me. The others need to be alerted as soon as possible."

"But are you sure you want to meet on Verbena?" Monty asked, feeling unaccountably uncomfortable with the thought. "Last time we were through there, the place was knee-deep in purplebellies."

"The situation has changed," Mal replied thinly. "Listen, Monty, I have a lot of people to contact. So, just spread the word, will you?"

Monty nodded. "Anything you say, Mal. You always did have more of a head for this kinda' thing than me. I'll tell who I can."

"Thanks, Monty," Mal said, rewarding him with a smile before cutting the transmission. He turned to look over his shoulder at the man standing behind him.

"Excellent," Hill said quietly, patting his creation lightly on the back. "Now to wave the others."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal leaned against the wall of the cottage on Sihnon, watching the Tams and Fryes circle each other with something that could only be described as polite wariness. He smiled as he saw Kaylee, the glue that held his own home together, working her magic on everyone, making what could have been an awkward encounter much smoother than he would have imagined.

Of course, it did no harm that the children were smoothing the way as well. It was obvious that both the Fryes and the Tams were smitten by their grandchildren and by all the children, for that matter.

River slipped her hand into his and leaned close to whisper in his ear. "You've turned them all into a family."

"Don't know that it was me as did it," Mal replied, squeezing her hand lightly.

"I do," she replied, a hint of the spoiled brat she had once been in her tone.

Mal stepped out onto the porch and leaned on the railing, still holding her hand. "Pretty place this is," he observed. "Much greener than Shadow ever was."

"Terraforming held well here," River replied, nodding. "And the government has put quite a lot of money into making Sihnon a showcase." She paused for a moment. "If the war comes here…" Her words trailed off.

"Don't think it will," Mal said. "Even though we'll target Core worlds, Sihnon is not likely to be one of the ones that goes. There's a limited Alliance presence here, and no military assets to speak of."

"Just beauty," River replied, thinking of all the things that the rich world had to offer. "And culture, in the cities. And of course, the Guild houses."

Mal nodded. "I don't see a need to destroy the things that the Alliance has managed to make beautiful. They're few and far between, far as I can tell." He paused. "But even if it's not a direct target, what we're aimin' to do will affect this world, same as all the others. Standin' here in the sunshine, on this little porch, it makes a man wonder if we're doing the right thing."

"You were right when you said that they won't stop," River said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It has to be the right thing."

"You sure about that, bao bei?" he asked softly.

She saw the tension in the line of his jaw as she watched his profile. "I am."

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus frowned, leaning back in his desk chair and scowling at the black Cortex screen. "It's just not right," he said darkly.

"Do you think….that man was…the real Mal?" Elizabeth asked, coming to stand at Marcus' side.

"If I had to bet on it, I'd have to say no," Marcus said, looking at her with troubled eyes. "Just ain't rightly sure how to confirm it from here."

"Well," Elizabeth said. "I would imagine you'll have to trust your instincts."

"Why would he want us to divert to Verbena of all places?" Marcus continued, pulling her into his lap absent-mindedly. "Remember when we were there a couple of months ago? Wall-to-wall Alliance in some places."

"Well, he did say that the situation had changed," she suggested hopefully.

"But he didn't say how," Marcus said.

Elizabeth pressed a few buttons on the Cortex. "Well, if it helps, the message came from Serenity," she said.

"Maybe, maybe not," Marcus said, checking her results. "Could be a transmission bounced to look like it came from Serenity. We could be dealing with another fake."

Elizabeth shuddered. "How many of them do you think there are?" she asked worriedly.

Marcus drew a deep breath. "More'n I'm comfortable with, by a mile," he said, punching up wave coordinates.

"Who are you waving?" she asked.

"Serenity," he replied. "Want to hear the message come directly from Mal again."

Elizabeth nodded, and they watched the screen together, each half dreading what they would see. But minutes passed, and there was no answer. Marcus grimaced. "Either no one's onboard, or something's happened to them," he said grimly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having effectively torn their hearts in two by leaving their children with the Tams and Fryes, the adults from Serenity made their way back to the ship under the cover of darkness. The walked in silence, each one wondering when they would see the children again and considering the very real possibility that they might not.

Getting to the ship first, Mal lowered the ramp and walked up into the cargo bay. "Take us out of the world, River," he said tiredly as she passed him headed toward the bridge.

River nodded numbly, thinking it a supreme effort to make her feet move farther and farther away from her children. Once on the bridge, she set a course for the rendezvous point, automatically calculating the best way to get them there despite the detours they had made. For awhile, she didn't notice the blinking light on her console that signaled the receipt of a wave.

Taking Serenity up and out of the atmosphere of Sihnon, she closed her eyes to concentrate on the slender thread of connection she had with Adam and Hannah. Reassuring herself that they were fine, she glanced back down at the console and frowned.

"What's the matter?" Mal asked, choosing that moment to step onto the bridge.

"It looks like we got a wave from the Hit or Miss," River said. "But they recorded no message."

"Wave them," Mal said, his mind immediately conjuring all manner of trouble that Marcus may have run into.

River's fingers flew over the console and in less than a minute, Marcus appeared onscreen, hastily pulling a shirt over his bare chest.

Mal smiled, observing the slightly distracted look that indicated he had not been sleeping alone. "Sorry to bother you, Marcus," he said, watching with faint amusement the blush that rose to the younger man's cheeks.

"No bother, Mal," Marcus replied, somehow knowing that he was looking at the real Malcolm Reynolds. "I'm glad you got back in touch with me. I just wanted to talk to you a bit about the change of plan."

Mal frowned. "What change of plan?"

"Diverting everyone to Verbena," Marcus replied. "I just don't hink…"

Mal interrupted him, gripping the back of River's chair with white knuckles. "Who diverted everyone to Verbena?" he asked roughly.

Marcus blinked slowly, confirmation of his fear right before his eyes. "Hundan who looked and sounded just like you," he replied grimly.

"Another clone," Mal said, cursing a low string of Mandarin.

"Apparently so," Marcus confirmed. "Wave came in this afternoon."

"Son of a whore," Mal spat out. "I've had about enough of the impersonatin' for one lifetime. Thanks for telling me. We gotta get back in touch with the whole lot of them and tell them it was a false alarm."

Marcus nodded. "Might be a good idea to let them know that you won't be changing the destination again by wave, and that a…look alike has been sending them the messages. That way, least this thing won't be able to undo what we're doing now."

"Where did the wave come from?" Mal asked. "Maybehaps I can put the hundan down before he tries it again."

Marcus shook his head. "Looked like the wave came from you, though that's fair easy to fake, if you know what you're doing. Could have come from anywhere."

"Soon's I get in touch with everybody, I'm headed to Verbena. Maybehaps this thing will show up there."

"Not a good idea," Marcus protested. "It's fair obvious it's a trap."

"Got any better suggestions about how to find him?" Mal asked tightly.

Marcus thought for a moment. "He's bound to surface somewhere. Once we've met with the others, we can find him together. Watch each other's backs, so to speak."

"Ain't over fond of the thought of waiting around whilst some other me does damage," Mal muttered.

"Most important to get to the others first," River said quietly. "Then we'll hunt."

Mal felt the pressure of her insistence in his brainpan. "Fine," he said, nodding at Marcus and River. "Soon's we get the folks headed back in the right direction…."

"And meet with them at the rendezvous point," River added quickly.

Mal frowned, but nodded, parroting River's words. "And meet with them at the rendezvous point, we'll make it a priority to find this thing."

Seeing Marcus nod, he cut the transmission and sat down at the co-pilot's chair to contact everyone once again. On the Hit or Miss, Marcus breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the budding resistance had just narrowly dodged a bullet.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	27. Chapter 27

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXVI—Traitor**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The rebels arrive at the rendezvous point, and Hill and the Mal clone have an interesting encounter on Verbena.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Looks like everybody got the message," Marcus said, peering over Pierre's shoulder at the assortment of ships settling in the dust of Paquin.

Pierre nodded. "More traffic than they've seen here since the epidemic, I would imagine," he observed.

"No doubt why Mal chose it for a new rendezvous point," Marcus said. "The Alliance has been almost entirely quiet about what happened here and what they did or did not do to contain it."

"That kinda' thing makes for a good breeding ground for rebels," Bear rumbled from the doorway.

Murdocke stuck his head in past Bear's massive shoulders. "Or a good place to die of some contagion that they haven't figured out yet," he pointed out sardonically.

"Folks die here it most likely won't be from contagion," Marcus said, strapping on his gun belt.

"All the same," Elizabeth chimed in. "I'd feel much better if all of you allowed me to inoculate you before we disembark."

Bear grimaced. "Not a bug in the 'verse that's ever taken me down," he said, backing away from her needle.

Elizabeth smiled, nodding almost imperceptibly at Marcus and Pierre. She advanced toward Bear, trying to look as innocent as possible, while Marcus and Pierre quietly hemmed Bear in. "Won't be anything but the slightest of stings," she said soothingly. When Bear scowled, she added, "And you can have a lollipop after."

Forgoing all dignity for a moment, Bear scrunched up his face in an almost perfect imitation of a three-year-old. Elizabeth plunged in the needle and quickly pushed in the vaccine, rubbing the area tenderly after she was done. Producing the promised lollipop from her pocket, she smiled. "Now was that so bad?" she asked.

""Had worse, I suppose," Bear grumbled. "But it's a poor way to start a trip dirtside, if you ask me."

XXXXXXXXXX

Hill gazed out at the empty landscape of Verbena with a grim expression. "It would appear that your performance was less than convincing," he said thinly.

"Or that someone in the rebel movement had the presence of mind to confirm the change of orders," his companion answered somewhat snidely. "Perhaps the Alliance ships in orbit would have done well to consider that possibility before deploying here."

Hill turned cold eyes on his creation. "If the rebels are all aware of the possibility that there are duplicates of Reynolds, you can be certain that impersonating him will no longer be effective in the slightest."

The clone stared back, aware in that moment that his usefulness to BlueSun had abruptly ended. The two men stood in silence, the only sound around them the breeze that whispered through the trees on the perimeter of the clearing. Hill mentally reviewed the possible outcomes, unwilling to destroy such a corporate asset if there were any other use for it.

The Malcolm Reynolds clone watched the play of thoughts across the thin man's face, thinking that had he not spent every day of his limited existence studying one or another of BlueSun's seemingly interchangeable employees, he would have no clue as to what Hill was contemplating. As it was, however, he knew, with an instinct borne of his own short experience coupled with the survival skills of his prototype, that a truly pivotal moment in his life was imminent.

He pictured the small knife in his pocket, wishing for the gun that he had never held, but that rested on the hip of the real Malcolm Reynolds. He could practically feel the grip in his hand, worn smooth by years of use, cared for with the love given to the most useful of tools. The knife did not suit him at all, he thought wryly, but it too would shortly have its uses.

Something flickered in Hill's eyes, and he reached one blue-gloved hand into his pocket. The clone, knowing that if Hill's hand reached its goal he would soon be lying on the ground with a lethal nosebleed, lunged forward, knocking the surprised BlueSun employee off his feet. The two men tumbled, landing in a tangle of arms and legs on the soft grass. Physically stronger and larger by far than his adversary, the clone wrestled the small blue cylinder away from Hill, throwing it a short distance away.

Hill bucked under him, trying to dislodge his solid weight. With the clinical portion of his brain, he noted with detachment that this clone seemed to have more of the original subject's formidable survival skills, but he had little time to ponder the possible implications of that observation.

Freeing one hand with some difficulty, the clone reached into his own pocket, withdrawing the small knife. He had the fleeting thought that River's blades would have been preferable, and filed the thought of Mrs. Reynolds away for later contemplation. He watched Hill's usually cool eyes widen with sudden fear as he pulled the blade firmly across the man's exposed throat. Hill jerked upward, fighting with a strength borne of desperation and clutching at his throat frantically.

The clone bore down relentlessly, feeling the strength draining from his opponent as quickly as the blood. After several minutes, Hill stilled, staring up lifelessly at the sky of Verbena. The clone wiped the blade of his knife carefully on Hill's jacket before rising slowly from the dead man's chest. Slipping the blade into his own coat, he glanced around for the blue cylinder he'd thrown to the side. He was unsure if the weapon would work in his own hands, but it seemed reasonable to take it just in case it should prove useful at some point. Unlike his duplicate brothers, he had no illusion that he was invincible or invulnerable. It would be a struggle to survive, but one he was willing to engage in with every skill he could muster. If the 'verse could only hold one Malcolm Reynolds, he had every intention that it would be him. Retrieving the cylinder with a satisfied smile, he walked back toward BlueSun's corporate ship, thinking that it was provident his prototype had some piloting experience on which he could now draw.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal looked out at the odd assortment of vessels on the Paquin docks and wondered how many of them housed people eager to talk about war against the Alliance. Some of the ships he recognized, like Monty's, but for the most part, they were unfamiliar to him. A small chill ran down his spine at the thought that he was embarking on a course that was going to lead people he did not even know into a war against a force superior both in numbers and weapons.

The first war for Independence had been easy by comparison, at least in that he had gone into it with the wide-eyed optimism of youth and the thought that right always prevailed in the end. He held no such romantical notions now, however. Too, his role in the first war was a simple one. He enlisted as a volunteer with no responsibility beyond following the orders of whatever officer happened to be in charge. And though he had been forced by circumstances to become a leader in Serenity Valley, it had not been his original plan. This time, the success or failure of the Independents would be a direct result of his decisions in the next few days and weeks. What he started here on the Paquin docks would potentially lead to the deaths of millions on both sides of the conflict. Were he not firmly convinced that the Alliance was and had been for some time corrupt from its roots up, he would never have even considered the possibility of taking such action upon his own shoulders.

And now, standing beside River looking out at the docks in question, he squared his shoulders and took her hand. "Ready?" he asked.

"Affirmative," she replied, stepping off Serenity and into the milling crowd.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus fell into step beside them as they cleared the first few berths. "Been walking around for awhile now," he said quietly. "Most of what's here are here for the meeting."

Mal nodded. "Did you happen to meet Monty?"

Marcus smiled. "Quite a soup-catcher on that one," he said. "I take it you're old army buddies?"

"Monty's a good man," Mal replied, smiling. He kindly refrained from mentioning to Marcus that Monty had the added distinction of being an ex-husband of Saffron, knowing that the woman was still a sore spot for the younger man. "Good to have beside you in a trench, if you know what I mean."

"I don't, but I suspect I will soon enough," Marcus answered, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Mal turned to look at him intently. "You don't have to do this, you know. If you're not sure…"

"I'm sure enough," Marcus replied quietly. "Don't see that the situation will ever get any better for me and mine until we're all out from under the shadow of the Alliance. And seems to me they're casting a longer shadow all the time."

Mal nodded and turned back to the dusty path. "Figure we can find a building somewhere a little ways out of the settlement. Set up a private place to sit and suss things out. I conjure after we get a head count, we won't need everyone to be involved in every planning session. Pick some leaders from each ship and let them pass on the word as they can. Less chance of trouble that way."

"Sounds reasonable," Marcus said. He paused for a moment. "You planning on telling them about the clones?"

Mal frowned. "Jury's still out on that one. Can't help but think it would undermine the trust right out of the gate."

"But not telling them leaves the lot of them vulnerable to taking orders from this double that we already know has tried it once," Marcus pointed out. "Seems like a pretty big risk to take."

Mal thought for a long moment. "Best I can tell you is that I'll think on it," he said finally. "Weigh it out as we go."

"All I can ask," Marcus replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Shall we divert to Paquin, sir?" Commander Bromer asked.

Senator Michaels scowled, considering the logistics. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Commander. Paquin is half the system away from Verbena, is it not?"

"It is, sir," Bromer answered.

"Then stand down for now," Michaels said disgustedly. "They'll be long gone before the fleet could get there. And the more troop movement there is, the more restless the riffraff on the Rim gets."

"Yes sir," Bromer replied. "What do you want us to do with Mr. Hill's body?"

Michaels thought about it for a long moment. "Leave it to rot," he said savagely.

"Yes sir," Bromer answered crisply.

"And you saw no sign of anyone else with him?" Michaels pressed, his mouth twisted as if he had eaten something sour.

"No sir," Bromer said. "No sign of anyone else. Whoever murdered Mr. Hill was nowhere in evidence."

"And the ship was gone?" Michaels continued.

"Yes sir. We have been unable to trace its course, though I have people working on it as we speak."

Michaels held little hope that the commander would be able to find the clone if it did not want to be found. Wondering exactly what mayhem the rogue clone would create, he felt the beginnings of a major headache behind his eyes. "Let me know immediately if you find the ship," he said.

"Of course, Senator," Bromer replied.

Michaels cut the transmission, pushing the button a little harder than was absolutely necessary.

XXXXXXXXXX

There was one thing about BlueSun that he could really appreciate, the Mal clone thought as he piloted the small, sleek ship through the Black. They did know how to surround themselves with the latest in luxury as well as technology. The controls of the little ship handled like a pilot's dream. He thought about Wash, and how the man would have appreciated the way the ship answered his every minute movement.

Thoughts of Wash led to more disturbing thoughts. He knew, with a certain clinical understanding, that he had never actually known Wash, nor for that matter, any of Serenity's crew. And yet, he felt a kinship with them, a pull to join them as their Captain, as lover and husband to River, as father to Adam and Hannah, as surrogate father to Anya. And though BlueSun had carefully attempted to indoctrinate him to loyalty to the Alliance, resistance to the idea seemed implicit in his very nature.

He knew, too, that Hill had been reluctant to allow him out of the laboratory. He had a vague suspicion that Hill had sensed in some way that he was not firmly indoctrinated into a philosophy consistent with BlueSun's agenda. The logical conclusion was that something had happened to the clones before him that made them unable to complete their mission. The thought made him doubly wary.

Tempted for a moment to head in another direction entirely and live out his life in obscurity on a Core world of his choosing, he paused with his hand over the navigational console. River's face floated through his thoughts. Deciding she was something he was unwilling to do without, he plotted a course for Paquin. It was time to collect what was rightfully his.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	28. Chapter 28

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXVII—Organization**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal resolves various issues pertaining to the coming hostilities, and the clone makes his way to Paquin.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal sat down heavily on his bed, tired down deep to the bone. Having spent the last week on Paquin sorting through the mass of information pertaining to the volunteers who were ready to fight, the supplies available to make a fight possible, and the various details of mounting a modest offensive, he realized that the task he had undertaken was gargantuan from any conceivable angle.

The Operative, of course, had smoothed the way for things operationally. The man was a tactical genius, examining and discarding scenarios with stunning insight. Mal was grateful that this time, the Operative would be on the right side of the conflict. Wondering longingly if perhaps he could persuade some other highly trained government assassins to defect, Mal knew that he genuinely needed some sleep.

As if in answer to that thought, River floated down into the bunk. Mal smiled wearily. "Everything settled?" he asked.

"Jayne and Bear were able to contain the situation," she said, sliding into bed beside him. "The prisoners were…persuaded to desist all attempts at terrorizing the general population."

"Persuaded…how?" Mal asked, thinking about the general uproar when the former prisoners made their way into the Paquin settlement for some recreation.

"In the normal way that Jayne persuades everyone," River replied, a smile in her voice.

"Grenades?" Mal asked. "There were grenades?"

"Just the threat of them, as I understand it," River answered sleepily. "Bear exercised a certain amount of restrain."

"Ah," Mal said, thinking that the two men could contain any number of dangerous criminals given a little space. "So, everyone's back where they belong?"

"For now," River confirmed.

Mal sighed, shifting to make himself more comfortable. "Plannin' session went well enough today," he said as River curved her body into his warmth. "The Operative's got a real handle on the proposed supply routes and Monty helped us get in touch with Fred Jernigan again."

"The man who organized the transport of most of the men off Lilac the last time?" River asked.

"That's the one," Mal answered. "Between the Operative and Jernigan, I think we've got the supply chain hammered out."

"If you use Jernigan for supply transport, who will you use for troop transport?" River asked.

"We'll have to depend on some of the battle cruisers for that, I'm thinkin'," Mal answered. "Gotten hold of three more since last week. Between Kaylee and Murdocke, they think they can get them up to speed with the modifications they'll need within a few weeks."

River sat up in bed, worry lining the fine skin around her eyes. "So, we'll be here for a few more weeks then?"

"Don't think so," Mal replied. "Doesn't seem safe to stay in one spot for too long, especially not with the possibility that there are folks among us that may be Alliance spies. Once Murdocke and Kaylee can show the other mechanics how to do the job, we can leave."

River nodded. "Could still wander around while the sessions are going on," she offered. "See if I pick up on anything."

Though Mal had been vaguely resistant to the idea before, he nodded. "Think that might be a fine idea at this point. Though I'm fair certain the ones we've chosen are all on the up and up, there are still a lot of folks in each of the ships that we ain't exactly met yet. My guess is that any spy would be there."

"I'll focus on it tomorrow," River said, easing back down under the covers.

"You find anything, you tell me before you do anything," Mal said. "Dong ma?"

River nodded, already fading into sleep.

Mal watched her for a few minutes, admiring the long, lean line of her dancer's body. Years now since she had come tumbling out of a cryo-box into his life, and still she was heart-stoppingly beautiful to him. He reached out to touch her, his fingertips brushing the hair lightly from her face. She shifted, turning instinctively into his touch.

Mal sighed, too tired to contemplate anything beyond lying beside her quietly. Tomorrow would be coming well before he'd had enough sleep to face it, he knew. Closing his eyes, he tried to stop the whirring of his mind until sleep could claim him.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Mal clone landed the BlueSun ship with surprisingly delicacy in a small clearing several kilometers from Paquin's unusually busy dock area. He'd known well that the increased traffic on Paquin was a good indication that he would find what he sought there even before he'd seen Serenity in one of the berths.

He was fatigued, his eyes scratchy with lack of sleep. Having traveled the distance to Paquin alone, he had felt less than comfortable setting the auto-pilot for longer than a few minutes at the time. He could only assume that BlueSun would be seeking to retrieve both their clone and their ship. And he had no doubt that the Alliance would also be looking for him. Finding it vaguely ironic that he should now count among his own enemies the entities that the original Malcolm Reynolds had acquired as well, he smiled thinly as he secured the ship and settled down to sleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough to begin his search, he thought with anticipation.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal, Marcus, and the Operative sat around the small table in various states of exhaustion. Having arranged a method of communication with the small fleet, a transport system to supply the troops, and a basic outline of what would need to be done quickly, they were enjoying a much needed moment of quiet before the morning meeting with the other rebel leaders began.

"About the whole issue of potential clones," Marcus began even though he dreaded to bring the subject up again. "Any thoughts about how to circumvent any future attempts at impersonation?"

Mal pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "I've given it some thought. Still think that to reveal right now that there may be more of me out there would undermine the whole operation."

"I agree," the Operative said. "The others look to you for guidance. Any indication that they might be dealing with a clone of you instead would surely give them pause. And that is something we can't afford at this point."

"Still, we need to protect them as best we can," Mal replied. "So, I conjure we need to set some kind of guideline for any change in orders. I'm thinkin' that if we tell them that any order they receive from me will be confirmed by someone else they know, that should be sufficient for now."

"Someone like who?" Marcus asked.

"Why not you?" the Operative asked. "Most of the others have come to know you fairly well since we've been here."

Marcus frowned. "They all know you as well."

The Operative smiled. "Yes, they do. But, due to my earlier profession, some of them are still, shall we say, reluctant to follow me without question. An unfortunate, but understandable, reaction."

Mal nodded. "That's true. But I think Marcus is not the man for the job either. If this thing goes down as it should, Marcus will be quite a distance away from anywhere I'm like to be." Turning to Marcus, he added, "Ain't everyone I would trust to do what needs doin' elsewhere. But I figure if you go one way and I go the other, I'll know that I've got the best man on the job."

Marcus inclined his head slightly, acknowledging both the praise and the responsibility with which he would be entrusted. "Then who?" he asked.

"Would normally have said Zoe," Mal replied. "After all, it's no secret she and I are like to be together 'til we die. But Zoe was in that Alliance hospital 'bout the same time BlueSun picked me up to start this whole cloning thing. And she and Jim were alone, both of them in no shape to handle things. Could be that BlueSun had access to her DNA or something. Might be a clone of her floating around somewhere too."

"Or Jim, or River, for that matter," the Operative agreed. "Basically anyone who has been in Alliance custody at one time or another."

Mal thought about the situation for a moment. "There's Jayne," he said. "Not that he ain't been in custody ever, but I conjure not even the Alliance would clone Jayne."

Marcus laughed. ""Spect you're right, if for no other reason than they would never conceive of you using him as your second."

"Thinking outside the box is one of your strong suits, Captain," the Operative agreed, the barest hint of humor in his voice. "And you think your Mr. Cobb is up to the task?"

"No question," Mal said unhesitatingly. "Jayne ain't ever been shy about taking command when the situation calls for it. I'll talk to him today."

The three men sat back in their chairs, pleased to have come to a decision that would potentially avert any confusion the clone or clones might try to cause.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You want I should do what?" Jayne asked, his eyes bright with interest.

"I'll be needing someone to confirm my orders," Mal answered, repeating the story again. "Just as a safety measure, to ensure that a gorram clone can't divert the troops any which way. So, when I give a change of orders, you'll be confirming it. They see both of us give the order, they'll know it's legitimate. Dong ma?"

"So, I'm gonna be….your second?" Jayne asked, a little overwhelmed by the prospect given the stakes involved.

"'Less you think you can't handle it," Mal replied. "I could always ask Simon."

Jayne scowled. "I can handle it better than him, I reckon," he growled.

"Just so you know, Zoe's my second, and always will be," Mal replied. "But you will be the one that the troops will be looking to for confirmation of my orders. I got confidence in you. Proved your worth enough times, to my way of thinking."

Jayne swallowed thickly, unaccountably touched by the vote of confidence. His mind drifted to the airlock after he'd tried to sell out the Tams on Ariel during that first year they were on the ship, and the feeling of shame that he'd felt when Mal had known what he had done. "Won't let you down," he said gruffly.

"Didn't think you would," Mal replied brusquely. "Now, you ready to go out there and stand with me for the announcement to the others?"

Jayne straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "Yeah," he answered simply. "I am."

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon watched Kaylee from a small distance away as she tinkered with an unidentifiable engine part from one of the other ships. She looked tired, careworn. As if sensing the weight of his gaze, she looked up. Her face broke into that familiar smile that lit up the 'verse in a way Simon could never quite get enough of. He moved forward, closing the distance between them.

"Thought you might enjoy taking a little break," he said, kissing her smudged forehead.

"Oh, I'd love to, hon, but there's so much to do," she said wistfully. "Once I can get this thing workin' right, I still got four ships to go. It's fair amazin' to me how some of these ships even got here without fallin' right out of the sky."

"Still, you need to eat," Simon said, producing a small basket from behind his back with a flourish. "It's my job to keep everyone as healthy as possible. And eating is my prescription for you."

Kaylee allowed him to steer her to a bench close by and sit her down. Pushing an errant strand of hair from her face, she took the proffered sandwich from Simon's hand and smiled gratefully. "So, how's everything going with the medical stuff?" she asked. "Finding anybody among the other crews to help out?"

"Other than Elizabeth, the choices are few," Simon admitted. "There are several who have at least a rudimentary knowledge of things, but there is much they will need to learn if they have to serve as field medics any time soon."

"I'm sure you can teach them just fine," Kaylee said encouragingly, though it was obvious to Simon that her thoughts were elsewhere.

He reached for her hand and looked into her beautiful green eyes. "What's the matter, ai ren?" he asked gently.

Kaylee sighed. "Just missin' the kids, I reckon. Thinkin' about how Daniel must be havin' a ball with my daddy, and yours. He'll be another year older in a few weeks, you know."

"I know," Simon said quietly.

"And we won't even be there with him," Kaylee added, her voice breaking slightly.

"Years from now, he won't even remember that we weren't there," Simon said soothingly.

"What if we don't ever see him again?" Kaylee whispered.

"We're going to see him, Kaylee," Simon said firmly, refusing to imagine the pain of losing his son. "Just as soon as this thing is done, we're going to see him."

Kaylee nodded, though it was plain that the reassurance did little to ease the ache she felt. They ate in silence for a few minutes, each lost in thoughts of their son. Kaylee finished her sandwich and stood, dusting the crumbs from her coverall. "Guess I best get back to it," she said, placing a quick kiss on her husband's cheek. "Sooner these ships are ready to fly, sooner we can get on with…things."

Simon nodded, standing as well. He glanced back toward the small building where the rebel leaders were meeting with Mal. Squinting into the sunlight, he saw River walking slowly among the ships scattered about. As he watched, she paused, frozen in place abruptly.

He walked rapidly to her, aware that something was wrong. "River?" he asked, touching her shoulder lightly.

She jumped, so focused on her inner thoughts that she had been unaware of his approach.

"River, what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

Drawing a deep breath, she shuddered. "He's here," she whispered.

"Who?" Simon asked urgently, looking around nervously to see who it could be that had shaken her so.

"The other one," she answered, her focus narrowing sharply.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued

Author's Note: I will be unable to post another part of the story until Monday, as computer access will be unavailable to me. But the next part should be up Monday morning. Sorry for the brief posting delay.


	29. Chapter 29

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXVIII—The Hunt**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: The clone sees his quarry, and River identifies the spy.

XXXXXXXXXX

He watched River from a distance, observing with appreciation the way she seemed to float just above the ground. The slight breeze plastered her dress to her lithe body, outlining the gentle curves he knew so very well. His hands itched to close over her hips and pull her to him, but he kept his distance.

She paused, suddenly rooted to the ground, and he realized that she had sensed his presence. The disadvantage of having a Reader for a wife, he thought wryly, was that it was virtually impossible to sneak up on her. He grimaced, wishing that BlueSun had at least finished the job to the point of providing him with a shield against her abilities. As it was, his current mission was going to be quite a bit more difficult than he would have liked. He would have to keep his thoughts carefully in check.

He watched her brother go to her, obviously concerned by her demeanor. He knew she could not see him clearly, as he was quite a distance away and obscured at least partially by various objects in their path. Still, realizing that he would have to proceed carefully, he backed away, hiding completely behind a conveniently placed outbuilding. Now that he was on the same planet with her, he stilled himself to patience. Acquiring what he wanted would be a matter of some delicacy, and he did not wish to rush into things. There would be ample time, he thought, smiling.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What are you talking about, River?" Simon's voice seemed to come to her from a great distance.

Pulling her focus back to her brother with great difficulty, she replied, "There is another clone of Mal. He's here."

Simon looked around swiftly. "Where?" he asked.

"Not sure," River said, trembling slightly. "Not as clear as it was a moment ago. But he's here."

"Then we have to tell Mal," Simon said firmly.

River nodded, walking jerkily forward. "Not now, though," she said. "He's not finished with his meeting for the afternoon." She paused, tilting her head to the side. "Still explaining what Jayne's job will be. The others don't understand the necessity of it yet."

"Perhaps they would understand it if he would just tell them that the clones exist," Simon said tiredly. "Seems only right to warn them."

"Understands that he must lead them differently this time," River replied gently. "Can't be a field soldier and the leader of the army as well. Knows that a leader must inspire absolute confidence." She paused again. "Older than he was before. More conscious of the need for caution."

"That doesn't bode especially well for the others," Simon replied, his lips drawn in a straight line.

River stopped walking and looked directly into his troubled eyes. "Has to be this way. The 'verse is a different place this time."

"River," Simon asked reluctantly. "Do you…see how things are going to turn out?"

"Shadows," River replied honestly. "Possible outcomes, like cards in a deck. Depends on the shuffle of events. Dong ma?"

Simon nodded. "And you think that Mal is playing correctly the hand he's been dealt?"

"Yes," River replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

"It is our belief that the missing subject has gone to Paquin, Senator," the latest edition of the ubiquitous BlueSun employee reported crisply.

Michaels looked at the new man, thinking it eerie how much he reminded him of Hill. "As I suspected," he replied dryly. "I am not sending troops to Paquin. It is a complete waste of Alliance resources. Reynolds and the rebels will be long gone before a mobilization could occur. However, I would assume that you can send a small, faster ship there to contain your own problem. The rogue clone must be stopped before he jeopardizes any more of this operation."

The BlueSun employee nodded coolly. "There is already a ship en route. I assume that the military intends to patrol the sector around Paquin and try to identify any suspicious vessels?"

Michaels nodded in acknowledgement. "That is the general plan at this point. So far, our intelligence on Paquin is sketchy at best. Apparently Reynolds did not leave the planning meetings open to everyone, and our man is able to ascertain only a limited amount of information. Until his ship is actually deployed, he may not even be aware of its ultimate destination."

"It would appear that Reynolds is perhaps aware of a spy then," the BlueSun employee noted.

"That would be my assumption as well," Michaels said, sighing. "He is much more troublesome than I had anticipated."

A thin smile curved the BlueSun employee's lips. "It is his troublesome nature that made him an ideal candidate for our little experiment," he said pleasantly.

"Suppose it's all in the way you look at it," Michaels replied wryly. "Regardless, it would seem that the entire project has been derailed. Now that Reynolds has actively come into the picture, we have the very real possibility of a war on our hands. A war that would not be in the best interests of the Alliance nor your company." The last words were spoken with a sharp edge.

"As scientists, we expect the unexpected," the man replied calmly. "Rarely does an experiment go to its conclusion without at least some surprises."

"I don't like surprises," the Senator fairly growled. "And the Alliance does not either."

The BlueSun employee shrugged noncommittally. "Regardless, I came to inform you that we will be retrieving the duplicate shortly. And then, we are of course at your disposal for any help we might provide."

Michaels nodded. "You worry about your rogue clone, and leave the war planning to me."

"As you wish," the man said evenly, standing to go.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You're sure?" Mal asked, his blue eyes gazing intently into River's brown ones.

"I saw him," River replied.

"With your eyes?" Mal asked just to clarify.

"Briefly…perhaps," River answered. "But he's here nonetheless."

"Any idea where?"

River shook her head miserably. "Lost him, just after I saw him," she said. "He's…..he has your ability to block me, somehow."

"Thought you could see right through me," Mal said dryly.

"Only because you let me, now," River said. "Not at first. Remember?"

Mal thought back to the first few months they were together, when they were in the awkward stages of learning how to live with each other considering her unique abilities. "I remember," he said softly. Squaring his shoulders, he continued, "Anything else? Did you pick up on anyone else here who might mean us harm?"

River nodded. "Cook on the Wayfarer," she said unhesitatingly.

Mal frowned. "Davis' ship?" he asked. When River nodded in confirmation, he said, "Would have thought Davis ran a tighter ship than that. Crew's pretty small for a traitor to be among them."

"Signed on three weeks ago," River replied. "The old cook died."

"Killed?" Mal asked.

"Yes," River answered. "Made it look like a natural death though. He was quite old. Captain Davis had no idea."

"You certain of this?" Mal asked.

"Positive."

Mal rolled his neck slowly back and forth, stretching the muscles of his shoulders to ease the tension of the day. "I'll talk to Davis now. See how he wants to handle it."

"Take Jayne," River reminded him.

Mal nodded, a rueful smile gracing his features. "Almost forgot my own new rule for a minute," he said. "Any idea where Jayne is?"

"With Inara," River replied, heading toward the bridge. "And he won't be happy to be interrupted."

Mal grimaced. "More information than I needed to know, bao bei," he replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, how'd it go on the medical front today?" Marcus asked, noting the exhausted slump of Elizabeth's spine.

"All right, all things considered," she replied with a tired smile. "Simon is quite the organizer."

"I would think he would be," Marcus replied, lightly kneading her shoulders.

Elizabeth purred. "That feels so good," she said, leaning into the strength of his hands.

"I aim to please," Marcus replied, his lips brushing the back of her neck lightly as he steered her toward the bed.

"How about the plans?" Elizabeth asked as she settled down on her stomach to enjoy his ministrations. "How close are we to being able to leave?"

"Pretty close," Marcus replied. "Murdocke and Kaylee have all the mechanics on the other vessels up to speed, and they've spent the better part of the afternoon working on plans to disrupt the major power grids on the Core worlds. Fair made my head spin when I passed by them and heard them talking. Like listening to a foreign language."

Elizabeth chuckled. "So, which world will we be targeting?"

"The Hit or Miss has the distinction of being bound for Osiris," Marcus replied. He felt the sudden tightening of Elizabeth's shoulders. "I know it's where you got your training and all, but Mal didn't want River and Simon to have to be a part of creating major havoc on their home world."

Elizabeth nodded. "I understand the sentiment. It's just….a little difficult to think about seeing Osiris fall. It's such a beautiful place, in certain areas."

"Will be still," Marcus replied gently. "Unlike the Alliance, the Independents have no great wish to see whole worlds turned to ashes. Consider it like a surgery of sorts. The plan is to excise what is rotten, and leave the good."

"Not entirely possible, you know," Elizabeth said drowsily, her voice slurring slightly. "War is a nasty business, no matter how noble the cause."

"I know," Marcus said gently. "Not really looking forward to it, between you and me. But, it's a thing has to be done."

"Where will Serenity go?" Elizabeth asked.

"Persephone," Marcus replied. "Mal didn't want to send another ship so close in. And Persephone has a larger Alliance presence. Think he wanted to oversee that one himself."

"You gonna warn Easy?" she asked.

Marcus smiled. "Gonna do more than warn him," he replied. "Mal's counting on him to supply a good amount of weapons. Troops need arms if this thing comes down to a major ground war."

Elizabeth raised up on one elbow. "And do you think it will?" she asked.

"Would have to, at some point, I'm thinking," Marcus said. "Somewhere, on some world, the Alliance and the Independents will do more than trade cursory blows. They'll square off for battle. Guess the only question is where and when."

"We'll find out soon enough, I expect," Elizabeth said seriously. Marcus nodded solemnly. Elizabeth sighed. "Now you have to start all over," she said, lying back down on her stomach.

"With pleasure," Marcus replied, his hands roaming along her shoulders and back.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm sorry, Mal," Davis said, standing in his cook's quarters with the evidence of the man's treachery in his hands.

Mal looked at the small transmitter. "Couldn't have known it, I conjure," he said grimly. "Question is, what we gonna do about it?"

Davis handed him the transmitter. "Think your folks can trace who he's been talking to?"

Mal nodded. "'Magine so," he said, slipping it into his breast pocket.

Davis sighed. "Think he's the only one?"

"He's the only one we've found so far," Mal replied. "Ain't sure he's the only one at all, though."

"Then I suppose we need to ask him," Davis said, his fists clenching at his sides.

Mal looked at Jayne. "Think that's about right," he said.

Jayne smiled.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	30. Chapter 30

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXIX—The Confrontation**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: River comes face to face with the Mal clone, and violence ensues.

XXXXXXXXXX

"D'ya' believe 'im?" Jayne asked, looking at the trembling body of Davis' cook with disgust.

"Yeah, I do," Mal said grimly. "If there's another one about, I don't think he knows about it."

Jayne nodded. "Me neither," he said. "Want I should end him?"

Mal looked at Davis, who shook his head slightly. "Best we leave it to his Captain," Mal replied, noting the look of disappointment on Jayne's face. "We got more important things to take care of."

Jayne nodded, looking longingly at the terrified man tied to the chair. "Reckon we have at that," he said, though he could not resist leaning in to tower over the cook one more time. "Shame too."

The cook, wide-eyed with panic, leaned as far back as possible, upending the chair in the process.

"Jayne," Mal said sternly. "Let's go."

Grudgingly, Jayne complied, stepping over the upturned chair as he followed Mal out the door.

Once outside, Mal turned to him and scowled. "You think that last was strictly necessary?"

"No, but it was fun," Jayne said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mal shook his head, but he could not suppress his own smile as they walked away from the Wayfarer.

XXXXXXXXXX

River walked among the ships several times over the next two days, her mind sharply focused on the thoughts of those milling around her. But, to Mal's relief, she found no other indication of a spy in their midst.

More troubling, however, was the fact that she could not find a trace of the clone either. Somewhere beyond the realm of her conscious mind, she knew with absolute certainty that he was on Paquin, was somewhere waiting, biding his time to act. And she knew, through the brief glimpse of his mind that she'd had, that he was altogether more dangerous to her family on a personal level than the other clone had been.

But when Mal pressed her for details, she did not share all she'd seen. How to explain to him that the clone was a reflection of the darker side of Mal's own personality, the side that existed in a want-take-have mode, she wondered. How to explain that the other Mal considered Mal's life to be rightfully his own. She knew without question that he intended to kill Mal, to take what was his by violent force if necessary, driven by a determination that Mal himself had in spades but untempered by Mal's sense of honor.

She paused, listening with her ears and her mind to everything around her. Slowly, she moved forward with fluid grace, catching the barest hint of the consciousness she sought. He was there, she realized, just beyond the periphery of the makeshift camp, watching her progress as she moved along the ships. A cold chill crept slowly up her spine as she walked toward him, closing the distance between them to mere feet.

Still, he remained motionless, though his thoughts became a louder and louder assault on her senses. She concentrated on walking normally and holding her shoulders and arms loosely, as if she could sense nothing of his presence. Finally, she stood inches from him, separated only by the low branches of a tree on the edge of the clearing.

"I know you're here," she said softly. "I can hear you."

His laugh was dry and lacked all the humor of Mal's. "As I knew you would come," he replied. "Do you intend to kill me?"

River breathed deeply and tilted her head to the side as if contemplating her answer. "Do you intend to give me reason to?" she asked.

The clone abruptly stepped out into her direct line of vision. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the trunk of the tree. "That depends on you, bao bei," he said softly.

River's skin crawled at the endearment on his lips, but she made no outward sign of her revulsion. She stared at him, a part of her reluctantly fascinated by the subtle differences in her husband and this man. Thinking fleetingly that she was looking at what Mal might have been given different circumstances, she blinked slowly. "Why have you come here?"

"Where else would I be?" he asked, amusement in his tone. "You're here."

River swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. "I do not belong to you," she said, her voice strained.

Something cruel and deadly flickered in those blue eyes with which she was so familiar. But it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "That a fact?" he drawled.

"It is," she replied, feeling the tension coil in her arms and legs, ready to strike out.

"You see, darlin'," he said, uncrossing his arms and moving toward her. "I don't think that's the way of it at all. I think that you do belong to me." He reached her, his body so close that she could feel the heat of it through her thin dress. "And I belong to you. Seems I recall sayin' as much in the Fryes' front room some years ago."

She looked up into his eyes, so achingly like Mal's that her breath caught in her throat. "Wasn't you," she whispered. "You weren't made yet."

His eyes hardened almost imperceptibly. "Tell me, River, if something should happen to the man you think is your husband, and there was no way he could ever come back to you, would it really matter to you that I am a copy? A difference that makes no difference is no difference, to my way of thinking."

"Nothing's going to happen to my husband," she said, the words like steel in the air between them.

He shrugged. "Maybehaps not, but you miss my point. Do I have less right to the life of Malcolm Reynolds than the original?" He grasped her upper arms, pulling her closer to him. "Answer me."

"You have no right at all to his life or any other," she said, twisting her arms away from his grip. "You are a creation, unsanctioned by the real Mal. You have no rights at all."

"Well now, there's the question, isn't it?" he asked, his tone like a gentle caress against her chilled skin. "Is that really true? I had no part in my own creation, any more than the man you call the 'real Malcolm Reynolds' had a part in his own birth. And yet, we both breathe and move and exist. We both have memories of a life stretching out behind us and hopes for a future stretching out in front of us. Who's to say which one of us should be allowed to live out that life? You? Some powerful being you call God? Or perhaps the patent-holders of the process, BlueSun? Tell me, River, would you happily see me die?"

"Not happily," she replied. "Never happily. But there can be room for only one. It is the natural design of things, the shape of the 'verse. There are things that are, and have to be, immutable."

"What if I promised to leave you here, to never return for you, to go somewhere else and live out my life in obscurity?" he asked, genuinely curious to hear her answer.

River shook her head, never letting her eyes waver from his. "You wouldn't," she said. "Can see it in your mind. You will never leave us alone, as long as you draw breath."

"And why should I?" he asked harshly, his expression turning ugly. "By what right would you ask it?"

He reached for her again, but she sidestepped his grasping hands and twirled to get behind him. "Right or not, that is the way it is," she hissed as she wrapped her arm around his neck in a tight hold.

He twisted, having implanted memories of seeing her fight many times in the past. Her grip loosened and with his superior weight and height, he slipped out from her hold, whirling to face her. "Don't want this to have to be done the hard way, bao bei," he said, his eyes glittering like hard, blue diamonds. "But I will have what is mine, one way or another. Make no mistake."

"I don't intend to," River replied, lunging forward, her legs connecting with his chest with momentum enough to knock him off his feet. Steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the twinge of horror she felt at intentionally injuring a man who was at least partly Mal, she jumped atop his chest, bearing down on his windpipe with one slim knee.

Filled with all the fight of Mal himself, the clone reacted, throwing her off his chest with a mighty upward heave of his body. She rolled, reaching simultaneously for the knife she wore on her thigh.

The clone, breathing heavily through his bruised throat, rasped a sharp laugh. "Looking for this?" he asked, holding up the knife before throwing it out of their range.

River cursed silently, knowing now that she would have to use her bare hands. Circling him warily, she said, "No matter. Won't need it."

"Good lord woman," he exclaimed, still somewhat breathless but obviously undeterred. "You are the single most beautiful creature that has ever graced the 'verse." He lunged forward, catching her by the ankles just as she moved away.

She kicked fiercely, hearing with satisfaction the snap of his nose as her foot connected solidly with his face. He groaned, but his grip did not loosen and they struggled, rolling end over end on the ground as they both fought for supremacy. Engrossed in their struggle, they were unaware of a growing audience until they were stopped by the sound of a shot fired too close by to ignore. They both turned toward the sound in time to see a thin man with blue gloves and a small cylinder clutched in his hands fall face forward to the ground, the back of his head missing entirely.

Stunned by the sight, the clone released his grip for a moment, and River rolled off of him, panting for breath. No sooner had she cleared the spot than a second shot rang out, catching the clone in the forehead. Jayne stepped out from behind the tree.

"Thought you wouldn't ever give me a clear shot," he grumbled, picking up the stunned River and setting her on her feet. "Gorram BlueSun guy almost took us all out with that eerie-ass tube thingy."

River, bending over and panting to catch her breath, began to laugh. Jayne frowned, wondering if the woman was on the verge of going all moonbrained again. Filling her lungs with blessed air, River said, "Not going moonbrained. Just….." Her words trailed off as she motioned toward the BlueSum employee and the clone with a fluttering gesture.

Jayne nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said gruffly. "Best we get on back to the others. Might need Simon to take a look at you or somethin'."

He turned back toward the encampment, not bothering to see if she followed. "Least we got a couple of purty little ships outta' it," he said as casually as if he had not just killed a clone of his Captain. "BlueSun knows how to travel in style."

River nodded, suppressing the faintly hysterical laugh that bubbled up in her sore throat as she followed the mercenary's path.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, do you suppose there are others?" Marcus asked, taking a sip of the strong coffee that Mal had offered.

"Could be," Mal replied. "No real way to know, 'til they show up." He drank from his own mug.

"And River's all right?"

"Seems to be," Mal answered. "Though I think it shook her up a bit to be tryin' to kill a man looked just like me."

Marcus smiled to lessen the tension in the older man. "Well, if I was you, I'd take that as a real good sign I was doing something right," he said.

Mal smiled wryly. "Guess so, when you think about it." He took another sip of coffee, and poured in a generous dash of whiskey, offering Marcus the same. "Speaking of doing something right, I assume that you and the lady doctor are getting along mighty well, from the looks of things."

Marcus blushed. "She's…quite a woman," he said finally. "And she seems to have taken a liking to me as well."

Mal grinned. "That's one way of putting it, I conjure. I'm glad for you, Marcus."

Marcus nodded, acknowledging the sentiment. "So, you got any ideas on how I can keep her alive whilst we fight this war?" he asked.

Mal sighed. "If I did, I would surely share them. Ain't rightly sure any of us will survive it all. But it's time to get on with it, one way or another. The Operative is leaving tomorrow, headed toward Ariel. I figure if we leave in the next couple of days, we'll both be in place by the time he gets to his target."

Marcus nodded. "The Hit or Miss is ready. Murdocke's got all his do-dads to gum up the works on the power grids, Pierre's on the job as usual, and Bear is restless to get to it."

Mal smiled. "Good to know," he said. "In that case, best we finish this bottle and say our good-byes. Then see each other on the other side of this whole thing."

Marcus nodded. "Sounds doable," he said optimistically, reaching for another shot of whiskey for his empty cup.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	31. Chapter 31

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXX—BlueSunset**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal gets weapons for his army, and BlueSun comes under fire.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Might want to find somewhere else to be for awhile," Mal said, smiling at Easy as the crates of weapons were loaded into Serenity's cargo bay. "Ain't gonna be real pretty 'round here."

Easy looked at him thoughtfully. "Don't think I'll be leaving," he said. "Persephone's my home now. And I've got a safe place down below the offices, if the fighting gets too close to my street. Besides, you'll come get me if I'm in danger, right?"

Mal raised one eyebrow. "Might be a little busy fightin' a gorram war to babysit for you, Easy," he said, though his smile softened his words. "Man like you needs to know how to look after himself."

Easy drew up to his full height and looked at Serenity's captain seriously. "I know well enough how to look after me," he said. "Hope you can say the same."

"I'll do the best I can," Mal replied.

"Hope that's good enough," Easy replied. "I'm rather attached to you and your crew. Hate to think of anything bad happening to you."

""Preciate it," Mal said, shaking his hand. "And thanks for the weapons. We could use any you can get hold of."

Easy nodded, heading toward the ramp. "I'll be on the lookout for more," he said. "That's another good reason for me to stay here, wouldn't you say?"

"I would at that," Mal agreed, watching the flashy little man walking calmly through the crowds on the docks, as if he knew nothing about the storm that was coming soon.

XXXXXXXXXX

The attacks on the BlueSun Corporation began the following day. Targeting specifically the research laboratories listed publicly, the Independents destroyed two-thirds of them before BlueSun requested assistance from the government. Though Mal was well aware that the corporation maintained many labs of which the public knew nothing, the theory was that targeting enough of the public labs would weaken the company considerably.

Within days of the initial strikes, new reports began to surface about irregularities and damning evidence of ethical violations found at the damaged sites. Orchestrating the media as only he could, the Operative saw to the release of thousands of pages of incriminating documents, gleaned from years of relentless pursuit of their secrets by the Underground Movement. An ugly picture began to emerge for even the most deliberately obtuse members of the public, and the government's contracts with BlueSun became a matter of intense media scrutiny.

Boycotts of BlueSun products broke out on the Rim worlds, trickling slowly back to the Core worlds until it became apparent to the shareholders of the Corporation that immediate action was necessary to save the company from financial ruin. Appealing to the government for aid, corporate officials were stunned to find that Parliament was reluctant to act, fearing the negative fallout from a public growing more restless by the day as new revelations came to light.

Closed sessions between Parliamentary officials and BlueSun officials dissolved into threats and innuendo, with BlueSun threatening to reveal the government's sanction of and active participation in some of their most unethical experiments. In an effort to turn the rising tide of public outrage, the government seized the remaining assets of the corporation, claiming that the action was taken in an honest effort to retain the jobs of millions of Alliance citizens. In reality, the uglier truth was that the government meant to silence BlueSun's corporate officers in the most ruthless and expedient way possible.

And silence them they did, both through means direct and more subtle. Upper management of the corporation found themselves in Alliance custody or worse, while mid-management received stern warnings of the consequences of making any public or private statements about what had happened before or what was currently happening.

The Independents, poised under Mal's leadership and euphoric with the public downfall of BlueSun, awaited the signal to turn their attention on the Alliance itself. Comparatively speaking, they did not have long to wait. Mal, judging the public mood was at the tipping point throughout the system, ordered the first waves of attacks on the infrastructure of the Core worlds, timing them simultaneously with the release of additional evidence of collusion between BlueSun and Parliament. The results were spectacular.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee watched as the lights of Persephone flickered briefly and then went out completely. She smiled up at Zoe, her face darkened by the grease they'd applied to avoid detection when the security lights were still on at the main power station of Persephone's capitol city.

"Good job," Zoe said softly, gathering up their gear with the ease of long practice. "How long 'til the backup systems come online?"

"Ten minutes for the emergency generators here," Kaylee replied. "But with a little luck, several days before they can untangle what we did to the grid."

Zoe nodded, moving stealthily back toward the ship with Kaylee in tow. "Should be plenty of time to do what else needs to be done," she said coolly.

"D'you do stuff like this in the first war?" Kaylee asked quietly as they got to a more public area, where people were already running about in various stages of confusion because of the blackout.

"Not so much," Zoe replied. "Always fighting defensively, for the most part. And on backwater worlds where there wasn't the same kinda target as this."

Kaylee was quiet for a long moment. "Think that everything went shiny-like on Sihnon?"

Zoe looked briefly back at the younger woman. "I'm fair certain it did," she replied evenly. "The cottage is a long way from the nearest city."

Kaylee nodded. "You're right, I know," she said. Wistfully, she continued, "But it would be good if'n we knew for sure, don'tcha' think?"

"I'm sure the Captain will find out soon's he can," Zoe said as they approached Serenity.

Kaylee nodded and, discerning the subject was closed, said nothing else.

XXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to drown out the sound of looting coming from outside the Hit or Miss. She shivered, thinking how quickly the supposedly civilized population of Osiris had sunk to all manner of criminality when the power was disrupted.

Thankful for the protection of the large ship around her, she burrowed farther into the covers, wishing Marcus and Pierre would return from their mission.

As if in answer to her wish, she heard the sound of the outer door opening, and knew that Marcus had returned. She sat up shakily, realizing that her heart had been racing for some time. Marcus stepped into the room, tiptoeing so as not to wake her.

"Did you honestly think I could sleep when you were out there?" she asked softly.

"Was hoping so, for your sake," Marcus said, sitting down tiredly on the edge of the bed and pulling off his boots.

"Everything go as planned?" she asked.

"Just like Murdocke said it would," Marcus replied, smiling slightly. "Man's a master of mayhem, as it turns out."

"Is it…bad out there?" she asked.

"Soldiers from all the garrisons are out in force, trying to contain the situation," Marcus replied, lying down and pulling her close. "But folks are in an ugly mood. Shouldn't take too much more before they rise up, like Mal was counting on."

"And when they do?" Elizabeth asked.

"Then we'll see if we can persuade them to join us," Marcus said.

"Sounds like a good way to get killed," Elizabeth said.

"Or win a war, depending on your perspective," Marcus replied. "So far, things have gone just as predicted. That can't help but give a man a little hope."

Elizabeth nodded, wisely refraining from further comment. Hope was a luxury she could not afford to lose.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Battle cruisers are en route now," Mal said, briefing everyone at the breakfast table. "According to what ships have reported in, the situation is pretty much the same on all the target worlds. People are in a panic, the Alliance troops on the ground are stretched thin just trying to control the crowds, and so far, we've only had a handful of casualties."

Knowing that the casualty count would go up drastically once the Alliance pulled its troops from the Rim worlds back toward the Core, Zoe asked, "And our ground troops?"

"Will be ready and armed in time for the cruisers to arrive," Mal replied. "So they should have at least more air support than we had before."

Zoe nodded and silence fell around the table as everyone considered the sheer magnitude of the events they had set in motion. Mal looked at the somber faces of his crew, and knew what was needful. "Got a report from Sihnon too," he said, pulling a small capture out of his pocket and laying it on the table.

Everyone leaned forward eagerly as he hit the play button and the sound of their children filled the galley. "The Tams thought we might like to see how they were all doing," he said quietly, sitting back and watching the joy on the faces of his extended family as they watched the children at play.

"He's gotten so big," Kaylee breathed, drinking in the sight of Daniel like a thirsty woman in a desert. Simon smiled, unable to speak past the lump in his throat but still squeezing her hand under the table.

Hannah ran through the frame, babbling nonsensically as she trailed her older brother. "She's running," River said, mesmerized by the proof of her daughter's development on the small screen.

"And talking a blue streak, according to the Fryes," Mal replied huskily. "They say she's wearing Adam out."

Everyone laughed at the thought that the energetic little boy could be fatigued by his little sister. But when Anya appeared on the screen, a stunned hush fell over them once again. "She looks so…grown-up," Zoe said, her normally stoic exterior cracking slightly at the edges.

Jim's hand came to rest on her shoulders. "She looks like my mother," he said quietly, pride in his tone.

Mal cleared his throat, mortified that it would be obvious how moved he was by the sight of the children. "So, anyway, the Fryes and Tams seem to have things well in hand. Said the city went dark right on schedule, but there's been no problem where they are. Nearest neighbors are a long ways away, and no sign of trouble so far."

Kaylee breathed a sigh of genuine relief, thinking it wonderful to be able to breathe deeply for a change. "Think we could maybe go see them sometime?" she asked wistfully.

"Would be dangerous to try that right now, li'l Kaylee," Mal replied regretfully. "Don't want any attention drawn to their location. Dong ma?"

Kaylee nodded, swallowing back a small sob of disappointment. Mal watched her rein in her emotions, and marveled at the way his little mechanic had grown up. "We'll see to them soon's we can," he said gently. And turning back to the others, he went over the plan of attack for the day.

XXXXXXXXXX

Michaels sat at the end of the table, looking into the displeased faces of a group of fellow Parliamentary members.

"The Oversight Committee acted in a manner consistent with the objectives set out by this body," he said evenly, though a vein in his temple threatened to burst with the effort involved. "We did as we thought best, given the circumstances."

Senator Strong, the oldest and most outspoken member of Parliament still maintaining active status, cleared his throat irritably. "Senator Michaels," he said, his tone severe. "Are you attempting to convince this assembly that your actions in this egregious display of hubris were in some way sanctioned by this body?"

Michaels counted to ten before answering, not wiling to let the older man cow him into a display of temper. "I am merely saying that the Committee acted at all times in the best interests of the Alliance, given the turn of events as they occurred."

"What your committee did was simple," Strong said abruptly. "You led us into a war that we just may lose. We are all aware of how depleted our military assets really are. Even with the acquisition of the assets of the BlueSun Corporation, we are spread well beyond our ability to ensure victory. And in this climate, you chose to pursue such a reckless course. I submit, sir, that you are at the least, extremely incompetent if not plainly negligent with regard to your duties as chairman of the Oversight Committee."

Michaels swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, seeing the handwriting on the wall. He knew, with a certainty borne of years as a politician, that he would be the scapegoat for whatever horrors awaited Parliament as the war progressed. For now, there was no doubt that real war was no longer a distant danger, but a disquieting reality for the Alliance in general and for every man in the room.

"If you expect me to say for the record that I committed any impropriety with regard to the project in question," he said thinly. "You will be very disappointed, Senator Strong."

"I expect nothing from you, Senator Michaels," Strong replied. "Nor do I want anything more from you. Let the record show that you have no remorse for plunging this government into a potentially devastating war. For that, I hereby recommend that this body move immediately to strip you of the title and privileges of a Senator of the Parliament. And I further recommend that you be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for crimes against the government."

Michaels stared at the man for a moment, shocked into silence by the harshness of the recommendation. He had expected to be asked to resign, perhaps even stripped of some of his privileges in the typical fashion of a political slap on the wrist, but this went far beyond his wildest thought. He looked from person to person, searching for a sign of sympathy anywhere in the room. But his looks were returned with stony silence.

"Have you anything else to say in your defense before our decision is made?" Strong asked.

Michaels drew a deep breath and replied, "Just that I will see all of you in hell." With that he stood, pushing his chair back from the table with maximum force and upending it in the process. Before he could reach the door, guards were summoned, And before he could protest further, he was led away in cuffs from the lavish chambers in which he had worked for so long as one of the most staunch supporters of Alliance sovereignty in Parliament.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	32. Chapter 32

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXXI—The War Years**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Scenes from the second war for Independence.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal looked out at the eager faces of his new recruits, and something in the sight made his throat tight. Though there were a few wizened faces in the group, for the most part the men and women who looked up at him so expectantly were painfully young. He saw the star-struck admiration in their eyes, the wildly optimistic faith that he, as a former war hero and current leader of the war effort, somehow knew what to do to keep them from being slaughtered by the superior numbers of the Alliance troops.

But he also saw the thing that pushed him forward. He saw a desire borne of years of mistreatment at the hands of a corrupt government, a desire to live as free men, a desire to be a part of a life-changing moment of history for the 'verse. It was this that kept Mal's spine straight as he faced the new men. Clearing his throat, he addressed them, as he had addressed every group of recruits on every world he had visited. He spoke to them about the cause for which they would fight, the necessity of the things they would be asked to do in the name of that cause, and the reality that they would not all make it back to their homes and families. He promised nothing other than that there would be a clear purpose to their fight. He did not speak of glory, knowing all too well that it would not be forthcoming. He did speak of honor, and duty, and freedom for them and theirs.

And the men and women who listened to his words heard not only the words but the passion behind them, the driving desire for a real and abiding change in the way of things in the 'verse. And there, in the clearing in which they stood, they found the will and the determination to hold to that vision of the future and the desire to make the words of Malcolm Reynolds come true.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You are getting better at that all the time," Inara said softly from the flap entrance of Mal's tent.

"You think?" Mal asked, smiling tiredly. "Should be, after saying the same gorram thing on at least twenty-three worlds this year."

Inara moved gracefully into the tent and sat in one of the two chairs available. "Some days it seems like much longer than a year," she said a little sadly. "But then sometimes, when I'm standing in the crowd, listening to your words, they seem new, like I've never heard them before." She smiled. "Just think. You may have found your true calling as a motivational speaker."

Mal snorted. "Ain't likely," he said, though a part of him was more than a little pleased with her praise. He sat down heavily in the remaining chair. "So, what do you hear from the Guild house here?"

With a fleeting regret that their moment of relaxation should end so soon, Inara sighed. She well knew that Mal, like the rest of them, was stretched to the limits of his endurance, with a constantly changing set of demands forced upon him by the fortunes and misfortunes of a year-long war. "I met with the Guild mother earlier today," she reported. "The best I could secure from her was a promise that the Guild house here would remain neutral."

"And you believed her?" Mal asked, eyeing her carefully.

"I did," Inara replied. "This House is far enough from the Core that major pressure will not be put on her to support the Alliance. It is a house of little significance when compared to some of the other houses. And Independent sentiment here is strong, even among the Companion novices. But, the Guild still depends on the Alliance to maintain a certain…order. If anarchy reigned, the sisterhood here, as you can imagine, would be in grave danger."

Mal pondered the situation for a moment. "And you told her that we would offer them protection for their support?"

Inara inclined her head. "I did, but she is less than certain of our chances of success." Seeing Mal's expression, she added, "You are well aware that the Guild is a very…conservative institution."

Mal nodded, conceding the point. "If neutrality is all they will offer, I'm willing to take it."

"I told her as much," Inara said. She paused for a moment. "Mal, I'm sorry that I have not been able to persuade more of the Houses to support the Independents. The Guild is based on tradition and ritual. Changes are very long in coming."

Mal smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes much more pronounced now than they had been a year ago. "I know you're doing everything you can, Inara. And I'm grateful for it."

Inara swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She rose, not wanting to take more of his time than was necessary. She could hear a line of people forming outside the tent, all needing a moment to confer with him. Taking her leave, she offered a quick prayer to Buddha that he would have the wisdom and strength to lead them well.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon stood, straightening his aching back with difficulty. He looked around him at the makeshift medical tent that had been hastily erected the previous night. The Operative, still leading the aerial assault, had landed with a large number of wounded soldiers in need of medical care. To his dismay, Simon had found that there were no other doctors on this world, at least none that would come this close to the battlefront to care for the wounded.

So, he was making due with the meager staff he could muster. There were at least some nurses with field experience at his disposal. And of course, Kaylee was there. Seeing her across the tent working with a patient, Simon smiled. What Kaylee lacked in clinical experience, she compensated for with genuine concern for each of the patients under her care. With added guidance from Inara, she was turning into a real asset in the field. She could wrap a field bandage as well as the most skilled of medics, and she was learning how to assess which patients were critical and which ones could wait their turn to see Simon. Triage suited her.

Of course, she was only available to him when Mal did not need her elsewhere. As it was, on this particular world, there had been little in the way of mechanical malfunctions to worry about, and a large contingent of engineers to deal with problems that came up. Simon thought wryly that it was the way of things that if a world was rich in one type of asset, it was sorely lacking in another. It was just another example of the failed promise of Unification that the Alliance had offered to its citizenry, a completely uneven distribution of assets that was the norm on every world they visited.

Knowing he did not have the time nor energy to contemplate the larger issues involved, Simon turned back to his task. Reaching for a sterile bandage, he bent back over his unconscious patient and wrapped the surgical incision with the skill of long practice, forcing the almost overwhelming fatigue of his body away for one more minute.

XXXXXXXXXX

"How bad is it?" Mal asked, his voice strained as he looked down at Zoe's pallid face.

"Been better," Zoe answered in a worrisomely weak voice.

Jim stood at her side, his own face pale beneath the layers of grime from the battlefield. "Saw the gorram thing coming, and I couldn't get to her," he said. "Not until…afterward."

"S'all right," Zoe slurred, beginning to drift out of consciousness. "Couldn't have asked for…" Her words trailed off.

"Move," Simon commanded, running up to the group huddled around her. They parted and he dropped to his knees beside her, assessing her quickly. "We need a stretcher," he yelled over his shoulder.

"And you need to get off this battleground," Jayne said to Mal. "Thought we decided you would stay outta the bullets long's you can."

"Ain't leavin' her," Mal replied, his tone brooking no argument.

Jayne scowled, but left it at that. Figuring his best bet would be to cover them as they followed Zoe's stretcher to the medical tent, he turned back to the fight. Gorram Alliance was everywhere, but at least there was no shortage of targets for Vera, he thought wryly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe's eyes fluttered open and she frowned at the bright light. "What happened?" she rasped.

Jim came into her field of vision. "Almost lost you out there," he said, his voice hoarse. "Gorram wall fell when the seeker hit it. You were pinned under it."

Zoe closed her eyes, remembering the suffocating feel of the dust choking her and the weight of the wall across her chest. "How'd I get out?" she asked.

Jim smiled weakly. "Guess I don't know my own strength. Pulled it off you damn near one-handed."

"My hero," Zoe slurred, the pain meds Simon had pumping into her system making moving her lips a little difficult.

"At your service," Jim replied, bowing.

Zoe's lips curved slightly upward and Jim's heart started beating at a normal rhythm again. "We still dirtside?" she asked.

"For now," Jim answered. "Mal is getting ready to pull out. Most of the fighting's died down."

"How long I been out?" she asked, knowing that the battle had been nowhere near finished when the wall had collapsed.

"Three days," came Mal's voice from the doorway of the infirmary.

Zoe opened her eyes and looked at the Captain. "Pardon my sayin', sir, but you look like hell."

"Better'n you look," Mal said, grinning. "All I need's a shave and about a year's worth of sleep, and I'm good to go. You, on the other hand…."

"Are beautiful," Jim said, coming to her defense.

Mal smiled, touching Zoe's hand for a moment. "Well, for a woman who had a wall fall on her, I conjure you look as well as can be expected."

"Thanks, sir," Zoe said blandly before her eyes closed again and she slept.

XXXXXXXXXX

River pulled the bandage tight across her torso, wincing with pain as she tried to breathe deeply past broken ribs. The fighting had been fierce on this world, and of the hand-to-hand variety in which she excelled, thanks to her training. But even she, quick as she was, had been unable to completely avoid the flying feet of one of her opponents, and now she was reeling from the results.

"Should really get the doc to take a look at that," Zoe said from the doorway of the infirmary.

River shook her head. "Too busy," she said. "There are hundreds of wounded down on the field."

Zoe nodded, hobbling slowly into the infirmary with the cane that she was forced to use until her legs healed completely. "Least let me help you bind it tight," she said as she leaned against the exam table.

River acquiesced, and Zoe unwound the bandages, pulling them tighter than River had been able to do on her own. "Thanks," River said, once she managed to draw a breath.

"No problem," Zoe replied blandly. "How goes it down there?" she asked as she looked at the dark circles under the younger woman's eyes.

"It's over," River said. "Should be pulling out today. Marcus sent word that we're needed on Ariel."

Zoe frowned. "Thought the Operative was covering Ariel."

River looked up at her with sad eyes. "He was," she said softly. "Held off the Magellan as long as he could, trying to provide cover for Marcus' ground troops, but….he didn't make it."

"The cruiser?" Zoe asked.

"No survivors," River replied.

Zoe leaned heavily against the table, rocked by the news. "And the ground troops?" she asked.

"In trouble," River said. "Mal has sent another cruiser to divert Magellan, but they've sustained major losses. It looks like Ariel is where the Alliance is going to stand and fight."

The two women were silent for a long moment, paying respects to the Operative and saying a prayer for the living.

XXXXXXXXXX

Marcus stood on a hill overlooking the ruins of Ariel City. Fires still burned in the rubble of some of the larger buildings, and there were still bodies, both living and dead, strewn about haphazardly as far as his eyes could see. He could barely make out Elizabeth, moving among the wounded some distance away, her shoulders hunched against the winter wind that scattered debris over everything.

He saw Pierre, limping up the hill with some difficulty. "Cease-fire's holding," he reported tiredly as he drew even with Marcus. "For now, at least."

Marcus nodded. "And how go the negotiations?"

Pierre shook his head. "No news. They've been sequestered since the cease-fire went into effect. Not even so much as a leak to the press."

"Think that's a good sign?" Marcus asked, wiping grime from his face tiredly.

"Maybe," Pierre replied noncommittally.

Drawing a deep breath, Marcus said, "Don't expect Mal is aiming to back down on the terms of surrender."

"Wouldn't think so," Pierre replied, smiling beneath his gritty mask. "Can't imagine we'd hold Ariel for all these months just for him to back down now."

"No," Marcus said. "This isn't Serenity Valley, after all."

"At least not for the Independents," Pierre replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	33. Chapter 33

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXXII—Final Offensive**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Parliament pulls one more rabbit from its hat, and Mal's life is, to no one's surprise, in danger.

XXXXXXXXXX

"He's not going to budge," Senator Jinyu said irritably. "And we can hardly accede to his demands. It would mean disbanding the parliament."

"Don't be troubled," Senator Strong said calmly. "There is always a contingency plan."

"If that is so, I'd sure as hell like to hear it," Jinyu scoffed. "Because there's been no gorram contingency plan throughout this entire god-forsaken war."

"Of course there has," Strong said, smiling thinly. "However, it was thought it would be best to let things come to a certain point before exercising our final option."

"A certain point?" Jinyu exclaimed. "I would assume that we've met and passed any point that would help us by now. We're sitting in negotiations for our entire way of life, with a rebel leader with no compunction about bringing the entire system to its knees. How much farther need we sink before we do something?"

"You're distraught," Strong said pleasantly. "And you're not thinking clearly."

"Then, please, enlighten me," Jinyu said sarcastically.

Strong leaned back in his chair. "With pleasure," he said, smiling. "Think it through. We knew going into the war that our resources were stretched thin. We knew also that more and more dissidents were banding together to fight against our troops. Further, we knew that they would rally around their charismatic leader."

"Yes," Jinyu said irritably. "So?"

"So," Strong continued, as if he had not been interrupted. "If we had killed their leader, we would have only managed to create in him a martyr figure. Our earliest attempts to discredit him proved quite disastrous on all counts. The insurgency gained momentum at an alarming rate. All of this pointed to the fact that we would have to neutralize the effect Reynolds had on the movement somehow."

"Which we have failed miserably to do, as is evident by his presence at the negotiating table every gorram day," Jinyu said harshly.

Strong smiled. "Then it would seem that now is the time to discredit him once and for all," he said. "And quite publicly, at that."

"How?"

"There is one more…duplicate of Reynolds, a man most amenable to our way of thinking. He has been with us since we acquired the last of BlueSun's assets."

"A clone?" Jinyu asked, leaning forward excitedly in his chair.

"Exactly so," Strong said, smiling smugly. "Let us suppose for a moment that he were the one sitting at the negotiating table with us. And let us further suppose that the negotiations occurred in a public forum, open to the press. How do you suppose the rebels would feel if they saw their illustrious leader cave in to our demands bit by bit until their precious little ideals hung in shreds? How long would it take for them to scatter in total disarray?"

Jinyu sat back in his chair, steepling his hands under his chin in thought. "How would the switch occur?"

"Easily enough," Strong said. "Mr. Reynolds, for all his uncanny ability to survive, is like other men. He has a certain pattern, a certain routine every day. Once the noon break comes, he leaves the council chambers with only his man Cobb for company. He has the habit of walking down a little path through the gardens behind the building and eating his lunch in relative quiet to avoid the possibility of running into reporters. There are any number of places along his usual route that might be a little, shall we say, dangerous."

Jinyu smiled for the first time since the cursed negotiations had begun. "I see," he said, much more calmly than he had spoken before. "And you are certain that this…clone…will act in accord with the best interests of the Parliament?"

"Absolutely," Strong replied. "He is definitely our man."

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe perched at her post in a large tree in the garden behind the building that housed the council chamber. Her legs, still recovering from the injury she'd sustained, ached from staying immobile for so long. But her senses were sharply heightened, aware of every minute change in her surroundings. She saw the sniper, hidden in some foliage on the other side of the garden, waiting patiently in position for Mal's predictable arrival.

From the other direction, she saw Mal emerge from the building, Jayne following closely behind him, his eyes moving over the landscape restlessly in search of the sniper as well. Zoe's hand moved almost imperceptibly, her finger hovering over the trigger of her gun. Mal continued down the path, looking not at all concerned for his safety. Sitting on his usual bench, he made a show of opening the bag that held his lunch.

Zoe followed the slow progression of the sniper's gun as he sighted down the barrel with consummate professionalism. She raised her own weapon swiftly, pulling the trigger as soon as she had the sniper in her sights. There was a small pop and the sniper slumped forward, the barrel of his gun pointing uselessly now at the ground.

Jayne, following the sound, saw the sniper fall and grinned up at Zoe in the tree. "Good shot," he said.

"Thanks," she replied blandly, climbing down to the lower branches with a small amount of difficulty.

"That the only one they sent?" Mal asked, somewhat surprised and almost insulted.

"He was supposed to be the best they had," Zoe snorted. "Guess they were runnin' short on snipers."

"And shorter now, thanks to you," Mal said, grinning. "Still, you'd think they'd at least have a backup."

"Mebbe they didn't think you were smart enough for them to need one," Jayne pointed out with his best innocent look.

Mal frowned. "Very funny, though truth be told, it might not have gone so smooth without River."

"It does sometimes pay to have a Reader on your side," Zoe said evenly.

"A little fact that the noble Senators forgot, I conjure," Mal said. "Speakin' of River, any word?"

"None yet," Zoe said, pulling the earpiece from her ear. "Must still be inside."

"See if she needs some help," Mal said. "Jayne and I can handle it from here."

Zoe nodded, moving slowly but with a straight spine toward the back entrance of the building.

XXXXXXXXXX

River crept quietly along the corridor of the nearly empty building, listening intently for her prey. She heard voices coming from one of the rooms to the left and she paused for a moment, sifting through their thoughts in search of something useful. Deciding quickly that they had no answers for her, she moved forward slowly, her mind reaching into the empty rooms around her.

Soon, she found the room where the Senators from the negotiations sat, eating their lunch and talking among themselves about the lack of any real progress in their meetings with the rebel leaders. She smiled, allowing herself to enjoy their frustration with her husband's stubbornness for just a moment before moving on. Senators Strong and Jinyu were absent.

She turned a corner into a darkened corridor and moved with renewed purpose down the hall as she sensed the presence of the clone close by. As she moved closer, she read his thoughts, his mind a horrible parody of Mal's, twisted with his allegiance to the Alliance as his mentors and saviors. She shuddered, revolted by the sheer magnitude of his hatred for the Independents and what they stood for. This thing, she thought grimly, was much farther removed from her husband than any of the others had been. And for that, she was almost grateful.

Reaching the door behind which he awaited his signal to come forward and play the part of the rebel leader, she slowly slid it open and stepped inside. The clone sat with his back to the door. But still, when she entered, he said pleasantly, "Knew you would come for me."

The skin on River's arms prickled as he turned to look at her calmly. "Knew it would be you that came," he said again. "You and I, we are destined to meet in every incarnation of this body, I think."

"How many of you are there?" she asked.

The clone shrugged. "I have no idea," he replied. "Truthfully, my only concern is me. Any others will have to fend for themselves."

"They do not plan to let you live, you know," River said. "Once you've done their bidding, they will see to your destruction."

"I might not be quite as easy to destroy as the Senators seem to think," he said, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"No matter," River replied, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. "They will never get the opportunity."

The clone rose, emphasizing the unhurried quality of his movements. "You intend to end this here and now," he said flatly, not a question.

"I do," River said.

"I do," the clone repeated as if tasting the words on his tongue. "Sounds almost like a marriage vow, doesn't it?"

River saw his hand move slightly toward the gun strapped to his leg, and she reached easily for the blades across her back. "Not at all," she replied, the blades now held lightly in each hand.

The clone smiled more widely. "The blades are a good look on you," he said conversationally as he drew his weapon and aimed it squarely at her chest.

River leapt forward, catching him with a swift slash of her blade. The clone crumpled to the floor, blood gushing from the thin slice at his neck. "Tell me, River, why did you let me draw my weapon?" he gurgled, looking up into her hard, brown eyes.

"Why didn't you fire?" she replied.

He blinked slowly as if coming to some realization. "Because I love you," he said faintly.

She nodded. "I know," she said, though he did not live to hear the words. Slowly, she wiped her blade on the hem of her dress and walked out of the room without looking back.

Seeing River emerge from a side corridor, Zoe limped forward. "Is it done?" she asked quickly.

River nodded. "Third door on the left," she said, not breaking stride.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal sat on one end of the long conference table, thinking that the lights of the recording devices that the media had placed so strategically were much too warm for comfort. However, looking across the table at the Senators, he realized that they were much more uncomfortable at this point than he was ever apt to be.

Having spent the better part of his lunch break arranging to take the place of his clone, he had to admit that he was enjoying the slow dawning of realization on the faces of Senators Strong and Jinyu. Confident that their plan had been a resounding success when they confirmed the presence of Mal's body slumped over the garden bench beside a seemingly corpsified Jayne, they had opened the meetings to the press. And now, in front of all the worlds spinning, Mal was setting the terms of their surrender, calling for sweeping reforms including a restructuring of the entire government with a broad emphasis on autonomy for each world coordinated through a central ruling body with limited powers.

And though the Senators strongly resisted the demands of the Independents as Mal presented them, they had been badly outmaneuvered at every turn. Seeing no way to discredit the Independent leadership and no way to save their positions without endangering their lives, they agreed to Mal's terms with minor amendments that would at least leave them with the small concession of having won on a few trivial matters.

The meetings lasted for days, each section of the peace treaty hard fought in every detail. And the people of the 'verse watched in fascination as the only government most of them had ever known came to its knees on the soil of Ariel.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	34. Chapter 34

Storm Front

**Storm Front**

**Part XXXIII—Aftermath**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just playin' in Joss' sandbox.

Rating: PG

Summary: Conclusion. A new provisional government is formed, and Mal and the crew of Serenity go back to the Black.

XXXXXXXXXX

"And why exactly would you think I would be willing to be a member of this new parliament?" Lord Harrow asked blandly.

"Why not?" Mal replied, giving the man his best winning smile. "Peace has been restored, and there's need of good men on every world to represent its people in a decent way."

"I would not call the current climate 'peace' so much as an absence of war," Harrow replied dryly. "But, it would seem that there is a need." He paused for a long time while Mal waited patiently for his answer. Finally, he asked, "And would you be a member of this parliament?"

"No," Mal replied. "For two reasons. Number one, I represent no world. I live in the Black. Number two, there's always the possibility that there are more clones of me floating around as could gum up the works. Wouldn't want a new government to be vulnerable to that kind of thing."

Harrow nodded. "Had you not presented such compelling evidence of it, I would not have imagined the former government capable of such a thing, despite my misgivings about their trade policies."

"That's why men such as yourself are needed to oversee a new beginning. And I can assure you, there are others like you, educated men with the temperament and ability to hammer out all the particulars of how to provide decent representation for each world's citizens without meddling too much in the affairs of their homeworlds." Mal spoke with confidence, thinking of the men who had already agreed to begin the rebuilding process. They included many he knew personally, like Andrew Bridgman and Pete, the former leader of the Underground, and, surprisingly, Gabriel Tam. There were others he did not know, men who had stepped forward with ideas and plans to see the vision of the Independents through in the most practical of ways. Turning his attention back to Lord Harrow, he asked, "So, what do you say? Are you willing to at least meet with them to discuss it?"

Harrow smiled and shook his head. "You really are a persuasive man, Captain Reynolds," he said. "I will meet with them."

"Good," Mal said. "I'll add you to the list, and they'll be in touch when the details of when and where are ironed out."

Harrow nodded, and Mal cut the transmission, leaning back in his chair. "That's the last of them," he said.

River nodded from the pilot's chair. "Knew he'd do it, if you asked nicely." She grinned impishly when she saw him roll his eyes. "Where to, Captain?" she asked, her hands hovering over the controls.

"Sihnon," Mal replied without hesitation. "Time to pick up the kids."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Been looking for you for the past two hours," Marcus said, a hint of worry in his voice.

Elizabeth turned to look at him. "Sorry," she said softly. "I just needed to be alone for a bit."

"This might not be the best place to wander off alone," he chided. "War zone and all."

"Not a war zone any more," she said, her lips curving slightly. "Peace has broken out. Haven't you heard?"

"B'lieve I might have heard something to that effect," he said, climbing up to where she sat atop a large boulder overlooking Ariel's largest lake. She leaned close to him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You worried me a little, darlin'," he admitted.

"Didn't mean to," she said, sighing. "I just….felt the need to come and see this place. I spent a bit of my residency on Ariel, and I used to come up here to clear my head when things got to be a little too much for me."

Marcus looked around. "It's a pretty place."

Elizabeth smiled up at him. "Yes," she said. "One would never know that less than two kilometers away there was a battlefield where thousands of men and women lost their lives."

Knowing there was nothing to say to that, Marcus settled for tightening his hold around her. They sat in silence for a long time, looking at the sun glinting off the peaceful lake. Finally, Elizabeth broke the silence. "I'm glad we didn't die on that battlefield," she said solemnly.

"As am I," Marcus said, his smile slow and a little lazy.

"And it would appear that the 'verse stands a fair chance of turning out for the better now," she added.

"Undoubtedly."

"Then why do I feel so guilty about being happy about it?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Because you're human," he said. "Because you care about the people who died here, and the reasons they died. Because you're you."

"Suppose it will eventually stop bothering me, what happened here?" she asked in a small voice.

"Don't know," he answered honestly. "I'm new at this too." He paused. "Best I can tell you is that we need to just keep on livin' 'til we find out."

"Why do I think that will not be as easy as it sounds?" she asked wryly.

"Could be something we could do to make it easier," he replied.

She looked at him blankly. "Like what?" she asked.

"Could maybe take some life-affirming step, or some such," he said, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. He reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew a small object.

"I repeat, like what?" she asked, intrigued by his behavior.

Marcus cleared his throat. "Some time ago, when I was feeling like life wasn't worth too much, Adam Reynolds told me that I'd be needing this for someone later." He held out his hand, showing Elizabeth the ring resting on his palm.

Her heart began to beat wildly.

"I think he must have meant you," Marcus continued, gently taking her hand and slipping the ring on her finger. As she stared at it in amazement, he said, "See, it's a perfect fit."

Elizabeth looked up at him with bright blue eyes. "Yes, I think it is," she said.

Marcus drew a deep breath. "So then, that being the case, think maybe marrying me might be life-affirming enough to fit the bill, Elizabeth?"

"Yes," she said simply. "I do."

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee thought that her heart might simply explode with joy as she watched Daniel at play with the other children. She'd been hugging him far too hard and often, and finally he had squirmed out of her grasp with a quick peck on the cheek. "Gotta' play with the others," he'd said, old enough now to get a little embarrassed with his mother's public displays of affection.

And while Kaylee had gracefully let him go, her hands tingled with the need to touch him again, to reassure herself that he was really here with her again and not simply another fantasy of her devising. Serenity had arrived on Sihnon days ago, and still the strong pull to be physically near her son and the other children was almost more than she could fight. She would have felt almost embarrassed by it, but for the fact that she saw the same reaction on the part of all the other adults.

Even now, when she looked up to see Mal in conversation with Gabriel Tam, no doubt talking about her father-in-law's new role in the provisional government, she could see that Mal's eyes never left the children for long.

Breaking her train of thought, Anya flopped down on the grass beside her with a big sigh. "You tired, honey?" Kaylee asked, smiling.

"Not tired so much as just wanting to….talk to you for a minute," Anya said.

Kaylee looked at her questioningly. "Everything all right?"

"Oh yes," Anya hastened to assure her. "Everything's shiny. It's just that….well, we'll be leaving soon, right?"

"Reckon so, soon's Cap'n gives the word," Kaylee replied. "Why?"

"Well," Anya said, her face flushing. "There's this boy…."

Kaylee contained her immediate reaction in favor of a more staid approach. "Yes?"

"And, well, he lives about seven kilometers from here, and we sort of got to know each other, and…." She paused. "And I kind of…like him."

Kaylee nodded. "And here I thought you had your cap set on Pierre."

Anya blushed. "Oh, Mr. Pierre is a really nice man and all, but he's sort of…old."

Kaylee smiled. "I see your point," she said. "So this boy, does he know you're about to leave?"

"Yes," Anya said. "And he doesn't seem happy about it, but he didn't exactly say that, and…"

"Well," Kaylee said, trying to sound mature and wise. "Seems to me this thing needs to be handled carefully."

"What should I do?" Anya asked anxiously.

"Best to keep on getting to know him a little at a time, I think," Kaylee said. "You know, with waves back and forth, and maybe letters sometimes. That way, you'll find out all about him no matter where we are. Sound good?"

"You think Mama would let me wave him from Serenity?" Anya asked, her eyes bright with hope. "I mean, maybe you could talk to her."

"Think it would be better coming from you," Kaylee encouraged the young girl. "But I expect she wouldn't object too much."

"What about Captain Mal?" Anya asked.

"Well now, that might be another story," Kaylee said, laughter bubbling up in her tone.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal watched Adam's eyelids flutter shut as he read him the obligatory bedtime story. He closed the book softly and sat staring at his son for a long moment. Adam opened his eyes sleepily. "Glad to be home," he said contentedly. "And glad it's really you."

"And you know it's really me exactly how?" Mal asked, smiling tenderly.

"You got the voices right," Adam replied, yawning widely.

"I see," Mal said, tucking the covers more closely under Adam's chin. "Night, little fella'."

"Night, Daddy," Adam slurred as he curled up on his side and drew his stuffed dinosaur closely to him. "Night, Mama."

"Night, baby mine," River said gently from the doorway.

Mal turned off the small light by Adam's bed and joined River in the hallway. "Wanna check in on Hannah again before we turn in?" he asked.

"She's sleeping," River said, smiling. "But if it will make you feel better…"

"It will," Mal admitted, knowing that River was well aware that he just wanted to see his baby girl one more time. He opened the door slowly, careful not to make a noise, and looked in on his sleeping daughter. Her hair was spread out in wild abandon across her pillow and there was a faint smile on her delicate features. She looked so much like River that it made his heart swell with joy and pride. "She's beautiful," he said. "And strong. And smart."

River nodded silently, and he closed the door carefully. Walking along the corridor toward their bunk, she trailed her hands along Serenity's bulkhead as was her custom.

"What's she saying?" Mal asked, smiling at his wife.

"She's happy," River said. "Happy that she's full again. Happy that she has her Captain."

"And what do you say?" Mal asked, his eyes burning with a profound sense of the absolute rightness of things for just this moment in time.

River faced him on tiptoe, leaning in to brush his lips lightly with her own. "The very same thing," she said before the rest of her words were swallowed up by his kiss.

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's Note: And so the story of Malcolm Reynolds and how he changed the 'verse with a small band of stalwart souls comes to its end. After a year and five months, it seems fitting to end it here, with a new beginning on the horizon for our favorite crew and their friends. It has been a real pleasure to share this story with you all, and to have you share with me your impressions and thoughts in return. Of the fact that Browncoats are special folks, there is no doubt. What a joy it has been to get to know so many of you through the story as it progressed. I thank you kindly. Also, I would be remiss if I did not offer a most special thanks to Midnight Obsidian for the use of the Hit or Miss crew. Every collaboration with you, kind sir, has been an honor and a genuine joy. As always, happy reading and writing to you all.


End file.
